


passengers

by cadyjanis



Series: mean girls [3]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Assault, Backstory, Birthday, Character Development, Childhood Trauma, Christmas, Coming Out, Confessions, Conflict, Confrontations, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Drama, First Kiss, Foster Care, Friendship, Goodbyes, Happy Ending, Harassment, High School, Holidays, Homophobia, Lesbophobia, Love Confessions, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Panic Attacks, Reunions, School Dances, Sleepovers, Slow Burn, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2019-10-27 04:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 111,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17760152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadyjanis/pseuds/cadyjanis
Summary: after thirteen foster homes, janis sarkisian doesn’t have much hope for this one. when her foster sister quickly shows her true colors, janis is tied up in unwillingly keeping their secret while tentatively making friends at her new school. but regina george is more than just the diva on the surface, and helping her proves to be a challenge. on top of their dysfunctional home life, janis tackles growing feelings for her new best friend. will janis find a forever home with regina’s family, or will it all fall apart like she fears?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Living in a Fable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16553990) by [Janis_Sarkisian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janis_Sarkisian/pseuds/Janis_Sarkisian). 



> hello party people. here we are. i’m so freakin excited y’all have no idea.
> 
> sharing medicine was a blessing and a journey and i’m thrilled to start over with this story. i hope you all like it as much as i do, it was my passion project for a couple months and i truly fell in love with it. thank you for your endless love and support! enjoy.
>
>> **ch1 trigger warnings:**   
>  childhood trauma mention   
>  sexual harassment mention   
>  d slur/lesbophobia

Jesus Christ, this house is big.

 

It’s not even a house. It’s a mansion, which technically are houses, but it doesn’t look like a house. It’s symmetrical to match the courtyard, which has trees on either side of the circular driveway with an actual fountain in the middle, roses planted around it.

 

Even Ms. Norbury seems taken aback, and it must be nauseatingly perfect if she’s reacting to it again. She was here a few weeks ago to assure it was suitable, and now Janis is tempted to argue that it’s literally too good to be true.

 

The parents are waiting on the front porch, and the mom, clad in tight white capris and a flowy pink top, waves ecstatically with one arm. She cradles a hairy brown dog in the other.

 

Ms. Norbury parks in front and climbs out as the woman and her tall, balding husband come down the steps to greet them. Janis watches in morbid awe as he balances her on the stairs given the height of her silver heels.

 

Good God. Janis didn’t think people like that actually existed.

 

While Ms. Norbury exchanges pleasantries, Janis quickly checks her backpack to make sure she has everything. Her entire life can fit in this backpack, she realizes dimly as she hauls it onto her shoulder, begrudgingly popping the door open.

 

When she steps out into the cloudy autumn afternoon, she barely has time to glance at the big house before she’s being pulled into a one-armed hug by the woman. Stephanie George, she thinks her name is. Ms. Norbury has probably mentioned it lots of times lately. Janis hardly listens at this point when she’s being told who her new foster parents are. It never seems to matter.

 

“We’re so happy you’re here!” Mrs. George squeals, thankfully stepping back before her floral perfume suffocates poor Janis, despite Janis being a good several inches taller (she’s taller than everybody, she’s used to it by now).

 

“Thanks,” Janis manages to say. In a neutral voice this time. Yay, progress.

 

Mrs. George puts the little dog down when it starts to squirm, and Janis lets it sniff her combat boots, the slightest bit endeared by its sweater and wagging tail.

 

“This is Henry,” Mrs. George tells her. “Do you like dogs?”

 

Janis half-shrugs, half-nods. “Yeah, I like dogs.” She’s never had a permanent one, but they’re reliable secret-keepers. There’s more dogs out there who know her better than people do.

 

Mrs. George introduces Janis to her husband, and they shake hands. Everything about Janis is bigger than the average teenager, but his hand still swallows hers. She doesn’t know how to feel about that, but his eyes are warm.

 

“Alright, come on inside, it’s chilly out here,” Mrs. George chirps then, waving everybody in the direction of the mansion. “Janis, I bought all different kinds of cookie dough since I don’t know what you like, so I haven’t made the cookies yet. I wanted you to choose.”

 

“Oh,” Janis replies, dumbfounded, awkwardly trailing after the adults, Henry still at her heels. “Um. Thank you. Chocolate chip is fine, I guess.”

 

Mrs. George claps, opening one of the huge mahogany doors. “Oh, those are my favorite! You have good taste, sweetie. Chocolate chip it is then. You can help make them if you want.”

 

“Steph, don’t overwhelm the poor girl,” her husband, Alexander, murmurs as she shuts the door.

 

“It’s fine,” Janis assures immediately. As uncomfortable as she is merely being seen by other people, this couple mean well, and Mrs. George is clearly making an effort to help her feel at home here. It’s a nice gesture, she isn’t so bitter and traumatized she can’t mind her manners. “I might eat all the dough, though.”

 

Mrs. George cackles, and Ms. Norbury nudges Janis’s elbow, seeming proud she’s talking to them. One family she never spoke a word to. That’s why they gave up.

 

“Oh, you’re funny,” Mrs. George says, leading them down the foyer to the kitchen.

 

Janis gapes at the interior, trying to take in as much as she can without being a slowpoke. It’s beautifully decorated, and she’s strangely soothed by the pale, classy tones. But then she’s suddenly aware of how badly her wardrobe contrasts with it.

 

That might not be a problem for a normal person, but normal people aren’t in her situation nor have they been booted from houses for insignificant crap like that. Granted, usually she made it worse or did something to warrant it, but still.

 

These people are the epitome of wealth and having their shit together. Janis is embarrassed for them that they have to care for her and possibly be seen in public with her.

 

Mrs. George shows her around, but not in an obnoxious way like other rich moms have done. Janis admires her resistance to flaunting her home to a teenager who couldn’t care less about how much everything costs, and gets the sense she truly wants Janis to feel welcome here. It makes Janis’s skin itch regardless, but she’s sweet.

 

Without being asked, Janis pauses to take her boots off at the foot of the staircase. She vividly recalls the one house tour where the woman’s demeanor shifted instantly rather than ask her not to wear shoes on the carpet. That lady held it against her until she left.

 

Upstairs is also fabulous, and there’s so many rooms Janis vaguely thinks this should be the group home rather than the default one she always goes back to. They could fit twice the kids and probably afford to feed them all.

 

“That’s our daughter Regina’s room,” Mrs. George is saying, pointing to an open doorway that leads to an awful lot of pink. Janis controls her face so she won’t offend them right off the bat, but good heavens, she’d go crazy if she were stuck in that room.

 

Luckily Janis already knew the Georges have a daughter her age. She evidently isn’t here yet, so Janis is grateful to have time to relax before awkward small talk and those long expectant glances when they don’t know what else to say.

 

“Aaand, last but not least, here’s your room, honey,” Mrs. George says, opening a door.

 

Janis heaves a sigh of relief when she sees how practical and simple her room is. It’s one of the smaller rooms, with cream walls and fluffy white carpet. The furniture is high end but not so over the top she feels guilty being in here.

 

“We didn’t know what kind of decor and bedding you like,” Mrs. George explains gently. “So we just went with the basics. We’d be more than happy to buy you more colorful stuff.”

 

Janis shucks off her backpack, a thrum of anxiety pulsing through her as it leaves her body so she can set it down on the nearby dresser. It’s almost like an extra limb or organ she needs to survive. She can’t go anywhere without it.

 

“Uh, yeah,” she answers belatedly after sweeping the room one more time. She musters a grin of appreciation, and both Mr. and Mrs. George smile back. Ms. Norbury hangs in the doorway, watching with a melancholy look on her face. Janis understands why.

 

“Alright, well, let’s give you some time to yourself. Out, Alex.” Mrs. George shoos her husband out of the room, and he disappears after exchanging an amused wave with Janis. It’s not often Janis feels safe around men, and of course time will tell as it always does, but she likes him—at the very least, he hasn’t been staring at her ass. The bar has never been lower.

 

Mrs. George turns back to say to Ms. Norbury, “Oh, Sharon, you’re welcome to stay for dinner. You don’t have to leave just yet if Janis wants you to stick around.”

 

“Thank you, Stephanie,” Ms. Norbury tells her sincerely, then looks to Janis. “It’s up to her.”

 

“Uh—no, it’s okay,” Janis says, trying not to sound happy Ms. Norbury needs to leave but also not too sad, because that would mean she cares.

 

She feels something akin to affection for Ms. Norbury. Being Janis’s case worker for twelve years has that effect. Very mildly.

 

“I mean, um—you can go, I’ll be okay,” Janis corrects, fidgeting with her many rings. “I know you’re busy and have stuff to do. Paperwork and all that. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Okay,” Ms. Norbury says, but doesn’t move a muscle. Mrs. George pats her shoulder, scoops up Henry, and leaves to give them privacy.

 

This is the hard part. Janis doesn’t care, obviously, but it’s still hard. Ms. Norbury is always the glue keeping her together, and now she has to leave. Not for long, Janis has low expectations, but the adjustment period is going to suck and Janis isn’t sure when she’ll see her again.

 

Maybe she does care. A teensy bit. Barely at all. But she does.

 

She sinks onto the bed, long legs stretched out in front of her. Ms. Norbury comes over to take a seat beside her, significantly shorter. They sit the same, with their ankles crossed, shoulders hunched. Both feeling the weight of an unsaid goodbye.

 

At this point they really don’t have to say it.

 

“You can call me whenever,” Ms. Norbury says softly. “For anything. You know that?”

 

Janis nods mutely, focusing on her hands, willing them not to shake.

 

“I’d give a speech about giving these people a chance,” Ms. Norbury continues, “and that you could end up staying permanently. But that’s not what you want to hear. I understand. So I will say this: you’re a good kid, and you deserve better than what the world has thrown at you.”

 

Janis’s throat tightens then, and she wishes her side cut was on the opposite side so she had hair to cover her face. But she’s exposed, like a nerve.

 

Ms. Norbury has seen her cry enough times that maybe she can deal with it.

 

“I’m sorry this is happening again,” the older woman says quietly, a hand now on Janis’s arm. “I wish I could promise things will be different. But we’ll have to wait and see. But I’m hoping for the best this time. I really like these people. I get good vibes from them. You might not, so I hope my word means something to you,” and Janis grins, just a little, “so you’ll sleep better tonight. Just gotta take it one day at a time, kid.”

 

Janis nods her understanding, having successfully kept her tears at bay. “Yeah. I will. Thanks, Norbury.” She only thinks of the woman by her surname, but they’re past formalities.

 

Ms. Norbury— _Sharon,_ Janis thinks, _just call her Sharon_ —pats Janis’s knee and rises from the bed. “I’m sure you’ll have fun decorating,” she notes. “When I come back to see you in a few weeks, there better be sketches and paintings all over.”

 

Janis snorts, bumping her foot to Sharon’s leg. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”

 

Sharon holds her arms out then. “Can I get a hug?” she asks, and it’s the one thing Janis can’t deny either of them. They used to be the same height, but now Janis has to lean down slightly to squeeze tiny Sharon, who hugs her with such sudden urgency it makes Janis’s heart throb. She bites her tongue, comforted by Sharon’s familiar vanilla almond scent.

 

They both know the other is emotional when they finally pull away. Sharon rubs Janis’s arm, almost to soothe herself, and heads for the door.

 

“Mr. George will probably bring your suitcases up later,” she tells Janis.

 

“Cool,” Janis replies, looking anywhere but Sharon’s face.

 

“See you around, kid,” Sharon says, and Janis smiles gratefully in farewell. Then Sharon exits the room, softly shutting the door behind her.

 

Janis folds her arms and stares at the ceiling for a long time. She wills her heart to slow down, to stop hurting over someone she shouldn’t miss. Sharon is just her case worker.

 

It’s not like she hasn’t held Janis as she cried, defended her to parents who turned their backs on a child, made her laugh when her world was falling apart. Again and again and again, this woman is there. From start to finish. Every single fucking time.

 

So, Janis does care. More than she’d like to admit. But she always only realizes how much it hurts to say goodbye when Sharon is gone. And that makes it hurt even more.

 

* * *

 

There’s a knock on the door an hour later. “Janis?” Mrs. George’s voice says through it. “Just thought you should know Regina is home, if you’d like to meet her.”

 

Janis’s stomach sinks, but she puts her phone in the nightstand drawer and reluctantly leaves the unsurprisingly comfy bed. Mrs. George’s face lights up when Janis opens the door.

 

“Do I look okay?” is Janis’s first question.

 

Mrs. George waves a hand. “You look fine, honey. Regina won’t care.”

 

Janis already highly doubts that. An almost eerie vibe has filled the house, and that doesn’t sit well with her. Tyrannical toddlers are one thing. Teens are another.

 

She follows Mrs. George down the winding staircase and into the conjoined kitchen and living area. Janis chokes when she spots Regina, a leggy blonde who looks like the human version of a Barbie doll. She’s standing at the kitchen island talking to her father while he flips through a cookbook, and her ass is something else.

 

“Regina,” Mrs. George chirps, and her ramen noodle hair bounces as she whirls around. She smiles so sickly sweet when she sees Janis, and she reminds her of every white blonde bitch in a teen coming of age movie. Fake smile, fake nails, debatably fake tits.

 

“Oh, hi,” she says in a high voice, and just like that, as hot as she objectively is, Janis cannot in good lesbian conscience handle that. (At least it fits with her Barbie vibe.) Even her hands are slim and pretty when she walks over to offer one. “I’m Regina.”

 

“Janis,” Janis replies, even more intimidated up close. She’s beautiful—obscenely, she could be a model—but something in her eyes gives Janis an indescribable feeling. She’s never met a foster sibling she was vaguely afraid of. Usually it’s the other way around.

 

“Mom and Dad have told me a lot about you,” Regina says. “You like it here yet?”

 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Janis admits honestly, and Mrs. George beams. “Lots of rooms. I’ve never been in a house so big.” Even the biggest house prior was half this size.

 

Regina looks like she wants to say something, then thinks better of it. Janis almost wants her to, just to see how bold she’ll be in front of her parents. But instead she says, “Well, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” not sounding at all like that is even remotely true.

 

The awkwardness is blessedly cut short when Mr. George pipes up to ask Janis come over and pick something for dinner, and Janis has never been so thankful to be near a man in her life. He encourages her to pick anything, so she decides a basic pasta dish, since she can eat that and not make a total fool of herself.

 

Regina goes upstairs to change as Janis assists in the kitchen. Aside from her art, she likes cooking, or at least trying to. The smell of food makes her feel homey, no matter where she is or who she’s with. It normalizes her existence for a short while.

 

Regina returns when her mother calls for her to set the table, and she comes back wearing what Janis assumes are a rich girl’s idea of sweats: loose jeans and a pink blouse not unlike her mother’s. Her hair is pulled back, though, and she took some of her makeup off.

 

“Smells good,” she praises as she goes to grab table settings, and Janis can’t help but feel a misplaced hiccup of validation in her chest.

 

Janis is glad Regina sets the table because if it were up to her, she’d have totally humiliated herself for not knowing where everything should go. She’s also relieved when they all sit and nobody links hands for grace or starts off with a toast to their new arrival.

 

Dinner is relatively normal, and not nearly as suffocating as she was expecting. Regina is quiet but her parents are funny together, and make an effort to include Janis in the conversation. It throws her off, because never before has she been a real priority, especially at dinnertime. It’s usually filled with the sound of fussy babies, irritated moms, and no interaction on Janis’s part.

 

Mrs. George tells Janis to sit and digest when it’s over, but Janis insists on helping clear the table, out of habit and just because she’s obligated. Mrs. George isn’t one to argue or deny the help, especially since Regina is deliberately immobile.

 

“Things might be a little weird for you two right now,” she says under her breath, taking empty glasses from Janis. “This is a big adjustment for both of you. Regina’s never had to share the house with anyone, and this _was_ rather sudden.”

 

Janis feels a flicker of guilt, and it must show on her face because Mrs. George quickly says, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, sweetie. We just weren’t expecting to get an application to foster since we’ve been waiting so long to hear back from them. But we’re happy to have you.”

 

“Thanks,” Janis says softly, knowing ‘we’ does not include Regina.

 

* * *

 

When Janis showers, she’s in tears over having her own bathroom all to herself. She puts on her music, figuring the house is so big they can’t hear it downstairs. She lets hot water soak into her hair and pulse onto her neck and shoulders, unaware of how tense she was until now. Showers are probably her favorite part of the day.

 

Feeling clean and relaxed, she dons an oversized shirt and pair of sleep shorts, which are the least amount of clothing she wears a day. She turns down her music once she’s cozy in bed, scrolling through her Tumblr. Social media is banned at the group home and the teenagers’ phones are regularly monitored, so this is the first time she’s been able to check her accounts in several weeks. She’s relieved she won’t have to delete and redownload apps for a while.

 

She’s humming along to a Queen song when someone knocks at the door. She pauses it the same moment Regina asks, “Hi, can I come in?”

 

Janis swallows, her good mood evaporating. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

 

Regina enters, clad in a tank top and sweatpants. Janis’s anxiety spikes as the door shuts.

 

She isn’t sure why she’s surprised when Regina instantly adopts a haughty expression, arms folded to accentuate her possible boob job. “Comfortable?” is all she says.

 

Janis clutches her phone a bit tighter. “Yeah.”

 

Regina smiles, but it isn’t a smile, more like a half-sneer. “Well, don’t be,” she sniffs then, and now looks like she’s suppressing a laugh. “You’ll be out of here soon enough. Dinner was real sweet and all, but don’t expect it to last.”

 

Behind the terror, there’s anger, and Janis wonders where the hell this little miss gets her ugly attitude. “Yeah, I know,” she responds curtly, and Regina seems slightly taken aback that she’s already aware of her fate. “I’ve been in thirteen houses over the last twelve years, I’m good at not getting my hopes up anymore. But I can still be comfy in this bed.”

 

Regina’s tongue pokes her cheek. “Well, don’t go thinking we’re friends, or that my parents are going to love you. Though, clearly, you’re used to that.”

 

That cuts deep. Janis winces, genuinely feeling like she’s been stabbed.

 

“Anyway, we’re gonna go to school together,” Regina continues airily. “I’m warning you now to keep your distance. If anyone knew my parents were fostering some dykey brat, I wouldn’t be able to live that down. Gosh.” She rolls her eyes. “So, yeah, just pretend you don’t know me.” Regina waggles her fingers in farewell. “Off to bed now. See you tomorrow.”

 

And then she leaves like she didn’t just insult Janis to hell and back. Janis is so shocked she can’t move for a solid two minutes, staring at a GIF as it loops and loops and loops.

 

Later, she briefly considers calling Sharon, then decides against it. She wouldn’t tell her about Regina, but Sharon knows her voice. And Janis can’t lie to her.

 

She lays in bed under the covers in the dark, replaying Regina’s words in her head. The word “dyke” jumps out at her in various memories she’d rather forget. She hates the word _triggered,_ but it’s hard not to be.

 

She eventually falls asleep, but that stabbing feeling hasn’t gone away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again friends, thanks for the love on chapter one!
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  d slur   
>  vomiting mention

Janis feels like throwing up when she awakens the next morning, remembering what Regina said to her. It’s not even her superior attitude that makes Janis’s skin crawl, but the fluidity and edge to how she called her a dyke.

 

_Is it really that obvious?_ Janis thinks to herself, staring at the corner of her pillow and trying not to be sick. Sure, her choice of clothing might be edgier than what Regina’s used to seeing, but lesbians come in all shapes and sizes and have a variety of aesthetics—

 

Okay, yeah, Janis looks like a dyke. Her hair alone probably makes warning bells go off in people’s heads, those who can’t compute any logical reason why a straight girl would look like that. She did her own side cut and dyed the bottom half blonde this summer, and while Sofia, the lady who runs the group home, was not happy about it, Sharon thought it was cool. She even told Janis the look suited her when Sofia brought it up.

 

Perhaps Janis has crafted her style around her identity as a subconscious way of letting other gay people know she’s one of them. Not even just to obtain a girlfriend, but so she knows who her allies are. But it also keeps guys at bay, because they take one look and ignore her.

 

Janis groans when she recalls the mention of school, and is so glad it’s Saturday. She presses her face into her pillow, comforted by the darkness and wishing it would swallow her. Starting over at new schools is always the worst part about being fostered, because people somehow know and everyone has to have an opinion.

 

And now with Regina aiming to protect her apparently dazzling reputation, Janis will have to skirt around invasive questions to avoid getting her ass beat by a real life Barbie.

 

Janis isn’t _not_ a violent person. She just doesn’t like being the one who gets assaulted. Regina has her fully convinced she’d be in deep shit if people found out.

 

Because she knows Janis won’t say anything to Regina’s parents. Because Janis is trying to stay here as long as possible. She’s too old to do stuff on purpose to get sent back, so Regina is going to have her wrapped around her manicured finger so they both get what they want. It nauseates Janis even more, knowing she’s stuck.

 

Hasn’t even been here a day and this bottle blonde bitch has scared her shitless.

 

Janis used to think admitting fear made her weak, and part of her still does, but as long as no one knows she’s scared, she can be. Nobody to judge her but herself.

 

And perhaps it’s stupid to be afraid of Regina. Or, it would be if Janis didn’t have anything to truly worry about. But Regina thinking she’s a dyke and Janis actually being one are different things—she doesn’t have to tell Regina anything. Regina isn’t owed that piece of information. It wouldn’t change anything, either, only make matters worse. Janis can picture Regina putting her public image on the line if it meant outing Janis.

 

Now Janis is positive she’s going to be sick, and darts to the bathroom to empty her stomach. She actually feels better once she has, and sinks back onto the cool tiled floor as it flushes.

 

After brushing her teeth, she goes to sit at her new desk and opens her laptop, which she got from a kid at one of her old schools. (She never felt more like a lesbian than when she wound up watching some of the hetero porn he accidentally left on it.) She messes around on Tumblr and YouTube for a bit, the light in the room getting brighter as the morning drags on. She’s not yet ready to leave the safety of her room.

 

Mrs. George knocks around eleven thirty, cracking open the door to say, “Oh, good morning, honey. Alex is making French toast if you’d like to join us. Or you can eat in here.”

 

Obligated again to spend time with them, Janis shuts her laptop and tells Mrs. George she will be down in a minute. She hastily brushes out her bedhead and splashes water on her face so she won’t look so dead inside, then goes downstairs.

 

Regina must still be asleep because she’s nowhere in sight, and Janis deflates with relief. She isn’t in the mood to deal with Regina kissing her ass for her parents’ sake.

 

“Morning,” she drawls to alert them of her presence.

 

Mrs. George is playfully swatting her husband with a towel, but smiles at Janis. “Oh, hi!”

 

“How’d you sleep, kiddo?” asks Alexander—it’s weirdly easier to think his name than hers.

 

“I slept alright,” Janis sighs, taking a seat on a counter stool. She won’t bother mentioning she threw up, because she’s sure it was just nerves, not really an illness.

 

Though maybe Regina could be classified as a disease.

 

“We were thinking of taking you shopping for school supplies later today or tomorrow,” Mrs. George broaches, sliding onto the chair next to her.

 

A wave of guilt washes over Janis at the reminder these people are spending money on her. Not that they can’t spare it, but her bedroom furniture probably wasn’t cheap.

 

“Or not,” Mrs. George amends in response to whatever look is plastered on Janis’s face.

 

“Oh—no, yeah, that’s—we can do that,” Janis says quickly, blushing furiously, hoping her jaw wasn’t hanging open. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

 

Mrs. George looks aghast that that’d be a problem. “Of course not. We gotta make sure you have what you need.” She pauses, then says softly, “You don’t have to go.” Janis raises her eyebrows. “To school,” she clarifies. “If Monday is too soon, you can start next week instead. Or we could get a home tutor—”

 

“Oh, God, no,” Janis protests as politely as she can, already panicked at the thought of being stuck in this mansion all the time. “It’s okay, I’ll be good to go on Monday. Thank you, though.”

 

“Are you sure?” Mrs. George pouts, eyes overflowing with compassion, and it’s hard to believe she birthed such a bitch. “There’s no pressure.”

 

Janis knows Regina would be happy to not have to deal with their secret getting out, and Janis technically would be safer if she never went to school. But she doesn’t want to seem like a big baby who’s too traumatized to go. No reason to give Regina more excuses to harass her.

 

“It’s okay, you think about it,” Mrs. George says when Janis takes too long to answer. She rubs her arm then gets down, saying she’s going to wake Regina.

 

“Good luck,” her husband and Janis say simultaneously, and Janis laughs into her hand.

 

She has a solid ten minutes to mentally prepare for seeing Regina again, but still tenses when her royal highness shuffles into the kitchen in a silk robe and matching slippers.

 

She blinks at Janis confusedly, like she thought she dreamt the previous day, her face turning delightfully sour when she realizes she isn’t seeing things.

 

“Morning, Regina,” Janis says pleasantly, taunting her just a little.

 

She grunts in response, and her mother lightly spanks her when she passes into the kitchen. “Be nice,” Mrs. George scolds, and Janis smirks. Mrs. George rolls her eyes, handing Janis a plate. “She’s so grumpy in the mornings. Yeesh.”

 

Janis snickers, pouring syrup over her toast. She wasn’t planning on getting attached to any of these people, but Mrs. George is slowly worming her way into the girl’s broken heart.

 

Janis doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

 

* * *

 

They ultimately don’t go out shopping, but Regina leaves around two to go hang out with her friends. (Her mother made her invite Janis but naturally, Janis declined.) So the house belongs to the rest of them, and Janis exhales the moment the front door closes.

 

“I know she can be a lot,” Mrs. George comments, joining Janis on the living room sofa.

 

“Oh, no, I wasn’t—” Janis goes to say, but Mrs. George pats her hand.

 

“It’s okay, honey. Regina’s very…intense. About a lot of things.”

_Yeah, about how much she already hates me and is embarrassed by me,_ Janis doesn’t say. If Regina’s expression while inviting her told her anything, the thought of Janis even being near her friends makes her want to die of shame.

 

Janis feels comfortable enough to ask, “Is she really okay with me being here?”

 

“Oh, of course,” Mrs. George scoffs. If only she knew. Janis itches to tattle, but that’d only land her in hotter water. “She was thrilled when we told her you were coming. But she can be moody, like this morning. But it has nothing to do with you, sweetheart.”

 

Yeah. Okay. Janis wants to laugh.

 

“But like I was saying, you’ll warm up to each other,” Mrs. George continues. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling, so she’ll just have to suck it up if she’s only now getting upset.”

 

Janis snorts then. No other mom she’s known has spoken about their children like that. “I’m okay. I…really appreciate what you’re doing.”

 

She looks at her hands as she speaks, hating the sound of her own voice but wanting to put it out there. She lets Mrs. George take her hand and squeeze it. “It’s our pleasure,” she says sincerely.

 

_For now,_ Janis can’t help but think.

 

They wind up talking about all sorts of things, from movies they love to how the Georges even got into being foster parents. Janis opens up about being an artist, briefly mentioning therapy, and it’s bizarrely comforting to just be able to talk to someone. She might be violating all of her personal rules, and she’s not getting too deep, but still. Something about Mrs. George makes Janis feel halfway okay. And that’s a lot.

 

Needless to say, when Regina comes home a few hours later and finds her mother and new mortal enemy chumming it up on the couch eating those cookies they finally baked, she’s not happy. She storms upstairs right as her mother is asking how her day was, and Janis pauses mid-chew to listen to her angry footsteps. Her door slams.

 

“Must’ve had a falling out with Gretchen again,” Mrs. George mutters, eyes huge with concern for her daughter. She finishes her cookie and says, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

 

“Is that a good idea?” Janis inquires, watching her leave over the back of the couch.

 

Mrs. George sighs wearily like she’s made the reluctant trek up the stairs a thousand and one times. “Not really,” she confesses. “But I have to try.”

 

That’s what being a mom is, Janis assumes. Constantly trying even when your kid is a demon. The worst thing about Regina is that her mother probably has no clue how she treats people; it isn’t so far-fetched to suspect Regina is the ruler of her school, and if her attitude towards Janis last night was any indication, she probably stalks the halls to terrorize people.

 

But she gets away with it because, like Janis, nobody says anything. They’re too afraid to get hurt even more if they speak up. So they submit and cower, taking the heat so no adults have to ever get involved. Imagine having that much power.

 

Janis knows teenage girls are a force to be reckoned with, but this one just has issues.

 

_Like me,_ she thinks, and cringes. At least she’s a decent person. She’s never gone out of her way to be mean to other people unless they deserve it or she’s standing up for someone else. She might have a truckload of emotional problems, but she’s still relatively _nice._

 

She hopes she is now, at least. Sharon talked some sense into her at thirteen when she started to get sassy.

 

The loser kids seem to flock to her because they know she’ll protect them without question. So if there’s plenty of those at Regina’s school, things might get interesting. Or everyone there is a stuck-up rich bitch like her and Janis will have to deal with assholes yet again. It could really go either way, and she’s not sure which responsibility she’d rather burden: looking after those who can’t defend themselves or keep herself from causing a scene.

 

She’s dealt with both over the years. But never at the same time.

 

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t emerge from her room for the rest of the day, and Mrs. George ultimately gives up on her when she refuses to join them for dinner.

 

“I’m so sorry, Janis,” her mother says, sitting down with a huff. “She’s being ridiculous.”

 

“It’s fine,” Janis murmurs, because the less Regina, the better.

 

“No, it isn’t,” Mrs. George mutters, stabbing her steak. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. She was fine yesterday and now she can’t make the effort to have dinner with us.”

 

“Maybe it’s for the best, hon,” Alex says softly, and she pouts.

 

Janis wants to ask how often Regina has these mood swings, or point out she’s only being a brat now that Janis is here and isn’t too thrilled after all. But Janis says neither, knowing better than to start shit, especially with nice people.

 

“How are you feeling about school?” Mrs. George asks Janis, changing the subject.

 

Janis shrugs. “I’m going. I mean, I’d like to. Maybe make some friends.” She’s lying through her teeth since she knows she can’t risk getting remotely close to anyone ever again, but she doesn’t want to be coddled into being homeschooled. And it might sound crazy, but she likes the repetition of homework and having something to do at home.

 

“Regina has friends,” Alex points out helpfully. “Gretchen and Karen. You can all sit together at lunch. At least until you make your own friends.”

 

That implies he either doesn’t much care for Regina’s or already knows Janis won’t get along with them, which is funny and probably true. If they’re even half as full of it as Regina, they are not going to be happy having Janis around, either. Well, whatever. She’ll find her people.

 

Her temporary people, she reminds herself. If she even finds them at all.

 

* * *

 

Mrs. George and Janis go shopping the next day, and Janis picks out new notebooks, binders, and pencils. She brought her backpack with her, claiming she wanted to be sure it all fit when in reality she was afraid Regina would get into her stuff.

 

Mrs. George somehow senses the importance of her backpack, and doesn’t suggest she get a new one, which Janis appreciates. Sometimes certain things need to be left alone.

 

After some coaxing, Mrs. George takes Janis to look at new clothes, telling her she can pick out whatever she wants. She doesn’t seem to have a problem with Janis’s edgy punk look—too many foster moms have either forced her to dress more “normal” or berated her for being different. So it’s nice, for once, to be allowed her freedom, to feel less self-conscious as she looks through tops and pants and leggings.

 

“This is fun,” Mrs. George says as they sit on a bench in the middle of the mall, eating pretzel bites. “Regina only comes to the mall with her friends nowadays. We haven’t had a mom and daughter shopping trip in so long.”

 

She sounds forlorn, and a peculiar wave of protectiveness rises up inside Janis as she says, “Regina’s missing out, then. You’re a cool mom.”

 

“I am?” Mrs. George looks so touched, it kind of breaks Janis’s already mangled heart. There she goes, caring about other people and their feelings.

 

It’s gross, and awful, and disgusting, and wrong, and weird, because nobody gives a damn about Janis in the end and the only person other than Sharon she should care about is herself because one day she’ll be all she has left.

 

But she has this, right now, and as strange as it is, maybe Mrs. George needs someone, too. Someone young to listen to her and want to be around her, to need her in return. Her husband is one thing, but her daughter is another, so if Regina isn’t interested in spending time with her, Janis might as well be the one to fill that void. Up until everything falls apart, of course.

_Don’t be so cynical,_ a voice in her head chastises. It’s kind of hard not to be when every family you’ve had thus far has gotten sick of you for a variety of reasons, giving up on you like you’re a worthless piece of trash. Nobody gives her second chances. Nobody cares what happens to her once she’s gone or if she’ll ever get the help and family she needs.

 

Janis doesn’t necessarily feel deserving of a family, and the Georges are no different. She has low expectations, even now, but tries to enjoy today.

 

For Mrs. George’s sake, she has to. This woman is doing the most for her—the least she can do is find something good about this to hold on to, as much as it scares her to feel even a tiny glimmer of hope or happiness. It always gets ripped away before she gets to really feel it.

 

On the drive home, Mrs. George surprises Janis by turning up a pop song when it comes on the radio. “You like this?” Janis asks, amused.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Mrs. George says, bobbing her head. “Regina doesn’t, but I do. She always tells me to turn it off.” She looks sheepish then and glances at Janis, who shrugs and turns up the volume even more to reassure her.

 

It’s weird, because if Janis looks out the window long enough she can sort of forget who she is and pretend she’s someone else, someone better, on her way home from the mall with a mom who birthed and raised her. She’s halfway happy, almost normal.

 

She almost swears this could last.

 

* * *

 

Janis is reorganizing her closet when she senses a presence in her bedroom doorway, and it’s not a benevolent one. She hangs up her new jacket and goes to see what Regina wants.

 

Same as yesterday, Regina is clad in her pajamas, arms crossed, that snotty look on her face. “You better be grateful my mom spent money on you,” she spits, and Janis flinches. She can’t help it; the way Regina speaks is like a verbal slap to the face.

 

“I am, actually,” she says calmly, willing herself to remain civil.

 

“Did she say anything about me?” Regina wants to know, catching Janis off-guard. “Like, did she shit talk me or whatever? Just so I know.”

 

“Um, no,” Janis says awkwardly. “I mean, she was sad that you don’t go with her to the mall anymore, but she didn’t say anything _bad._ I think she misses you.”

 

Regina snorts. “God. She’s so fucking clingy. Y’know, it’s almost a good thing you’re here if it means you can keep her off my back.”

 

Janis leans against the wall, sensing Regina is gearing up to make a point.

 

“I still meant what I said,” she continues curtly. “About school. Tomorrow you’re gonna walk in there and spin some story about how you just moved here. Or you can tell people you’re a sad little foster kid, as long as you keep me out of it. Okay? If anyone found out I’m pretty sure it’d be a disaster and I would have to fucking kill myself.”

 

Janis makes a face. “Yeah. Jesus, okay, I get it, I won’t embarrass you. You done?”

 

Regina looks her up and down, scrutinizing every inch of her gangly five foot nine frame until Janis is inadvertently trying to make herself smaller. “Just keep your distance,” Regina finally says, backing towards the door. “Or else.”

 

“Or else what?” Janis slips, the question blurting out before she can stop it.

 

And the look Regina George gives her is one she’ll never forget.

 

Regina says nothing more, simply struts away down the hall back to her fortress, leaving Janis in a mild state of shock from how intensely chilling that one look was.

 

She’s in for it no matter what. Regina is evidently determined to be her downfall, in one way or another. Janis has met truly evil people. But none of them scared her like Regina does.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enter cady and damian, finally
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  d slur   
>  outing mention   
>  q slur

There’s a new kind of dread in the pit of Janis’s stomach when her alarm blares at six thirty. She groans, rolling over to turn it off, cursing whoever decided school should start so early.

 

She already picked her outfit last night, but tugs and pulls at it self-consciously, swapping out jackets to see what looks better until she realizes it doesn’t matter. She’s going to have a hard day despite her clothing, so she dons her personalized jacket again.

 

She does her makeup in five minutes, having perfected the look so many times she can do it without taking forever. Her already dark eyes pop from the eyeliner, fair skin somehow paler in contrast to her deep purple lipstick.

 

It comes as no surprise to Janis that Regina still isn’t ready by the time Janis has finished half her breakfast. They’re leaving early to get her schedule and map at the front office, but Regina evidently has no plans to be part of that. People could still recognize her parents, though. Her plan to keep her and Janis separated might not even work.

 

That makes Janis snicker. She was so vain and blinded she didn’t think it through.

 

And so the Georges and Janis leave without her at seven. She calls down to them to say she’ll be there, since Gretchen is coming to pick her up. Janis is content to slide into the backseat of Alex’s fancy car without Barbie by her side.

 

Only the teachers are showing up when Alex pulls up to the school, and Janis gulps anxiously. NORTH SHORE HIGH stands in bold letters on the brick above the doors.

 

It’s cold and foggy as they exit the car, and Mrs. George puts a protective arm around Janis as they walk toward the admin’s office.

 

Janis is already registered, so the helpful receptionist prints out her schedule and a map of the school, encouraging her to “ask anyone” if she still needs anything. Janis thanks her, knowing she’ll just lock herself in a bathroom stall until she figures it out.

 

“Regina can help you, too,” Mrs. George chirps, laughing when Janis raises an eyebrow.

 

Except it’s not funny, and Janis has no plans to violate Regina’s terms of service.

 

“Do you want us to walk you to your locker?” Alex asks then.

 

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Janis assures, stomach rolling at the thought. “I can find it. Thank you.” She hesitates, then hugs Mrs. George, who makes a delighted sound and hugs her back.

 

“Call us if you want to come home,” she reminds Janis. “Okay? No judgement. If you need to, it’s okay.” She smooths Janis’s hair then pulls away to grasp her arms. “But, you got this. You are going to be just fine. And we’ll be back to pick you up.”

 

Janis nods, at war with herself over her decision to still come even though there’s so much at stake. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for Regina, but the unpredictable bitch sunk her talons into Janis so fast there’s little Janis can do but what she says. She’s going to try, really try, to be on her best behavior this time.

 

And if that means putting up with Regina, so be it.

 

Janis finds her locker, anxiety beginning to thrum through her as people start showing up. She keeps her head down, putting what she has to in her locker, then zips up her backpack to walk to homeroom. She receives lots of curious glances as she passes, and she feels taller than all of them. Her interesting choice in outfit probably doesn’t help her cause.

 

Her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Lee, is friendly and luckily doesn’t make Janis introduce herself to the class. So Janis takes a seat, thankful for the chance to just sit and study her schedule and map of the school. She puts in her earbuds to listen to her music, hoping it will calm her. She has anxiety meds, but they’re slacking right now.

 

She’s dimly aware of the nonsense around her, and the close proximity to so many teenage boys doesn’t make her feel better. That is up until one in particular sits down next to her.

 

And the only reason she pauses her music when he motions for her to do so is because his shirt says MAKE AMERICA GAY AGAIN.

 

She smiles at it. “Nice shirt,” she says, and he beams, looking down.

 

“ _Thank_ you,” he gushes, then offers his hand. “I’m Hubbard comma Damian.”

 

“Sarkisian comma Janis,” Janis replies with a grin, shaking on it. Instantly there’s an unspoken solidarity between them, and she relaxes a bit. He’s a handsome black kid with kind eyes and a gentle grip. It’s not often Janis instantly trusts people, least of all boys, but he seems like the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. They talk for the remainder of homeroom, and Janis tells him what he needs to know, never mentioning Regina.

 

She feels comfortable telling him she’s a foster kid, lowering her voice so nobody hears, and he nods without a hint of criticism in his face. He doesn’t get invasive, either, which she likes. Too many people have tried being interested to seem less awkward upon hearing it, but he’s not going to put either of them in that position. She’ll share more if she wants to.

 

He’s thrilled when she says he’s the first person she has met here. “Well, I’m honored. Oh, but you need to meet my friend Cady. Wanna sit with us at lunch?”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, I’d love to. Thanks.”

 

The bell rings then, and he’s happy to see they both have French as their first class. He sits in front of her, but Janis occasionally bumps his chair when something funny happens. French is inherently an amusing language just for the accents.

 

An hour later there’s science class, and that’s when Janis meets Cady.

 

“Caddy!” Damian yells, tugging Janis into the classroom and beelining directly to a small girl at a table in the back. “Caddy, I found you a potential date to my future wedding.”

 

Janis chokes on a laugh, and curly-haired “Caddy” sits up straighter when they approach. She’s beautiful, is Janis’s first coherent thought.

 

She’s going full gay right off the bat. Once it starts she can’t shut it down.

 

“Hi,” Cady says, and extends her hand. Janis shakes it, attempting to fix her expression.

 

“This is Janis,” Damian says helpfully, since Janis is half-returning to her shell, half-having a gay aneurysm. Of course she’s clamming up now, in front of a cute girl. “She just moved here. I was telling her you need to meet and oh, would you look at that! You don’t have a lab partner. And neither does she. Impeccable timing.”

 

He shoves Janis onto the stool beside Cady, which is just as well since Janis’s malfunctioning brain makes it impossible to move on her own. “Okay, you two have fun hitting it off while you dissect a frog or something,” Damian says, then waggles his fingers. “Bye, _Janine_ , see you later!”

 

“Bye,” Janis calls after him dimly, and the girls watch him leave with full confidence that he just set his best friend and new friend on a path to romance.

 

For several long seconds nothing is said, then Cady pipes up to say, “Well, anyway. It’s nice to meet you, Janis. And don’t listen to him, he gets excited about girls for me.”

 

Which means he wasn’t kidding when he said _future date._ Janis smiles, and Cady smiles back sheepishly. “He’s sweet,” Janis tells her assuredly. “We just met in homeroom. And uh—I don’t mind what he said. Does that mean you’re…?”

 

“Bisexual,” Cady confirms, and Janis’s heart soars. Not even just because she thinks Cady is cute, but because it’s been so long since she’s met another non-straight girl. “You?”

 

“Gay,” Janis says, taken aback by her own casualness. She doesn’t exactly go around telling people she’s a lesbian. “Me, gay. Very gay.”

 

“Grool,” Cady replies with a grin, nudging Janis’s elbow. The teacher starts talking a moment later, so they don their aprons and goggles. They look at each other and start laughing at how ridiculous they are, but shut up before getting into trouble.

 

They do, in fact, wind up dissecting a frog, and it’s the only time Janis doesn’t consider herself tough or unbothered. She cringes and leans away as Cady pokes at it with interest.

 

“My parents are biologists,” she explains unprompted. “I’ve grown up with animals, so I’ve seen it all.”

 

Janis glances around them, taking note of all the disgusted faces. “I admire your strength. I’m not good with guts and stuff. Which is funny because I love horror movies.”

 

“Oh, me too,” Cady agrees, and Janis’s heart could burst from validation. “The _Scream_ movies are pretty gnarly. I mostly like suspenseful, creepy horror movies, though. Stuff that makes me think, not wanna throw up. Some stuff can be a bit much for me.”

 

“What would you do if a murderer called you?” Janis wonders, watching Cady rather than the poor frog. She admires the other girl’s ability to pilfer through frog guts without batting an eye, and appreciates the chance to just talk.

 

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Cady says, eyes wide, and something inside Janis aches at hearing her curse. “Um. Probably start crying and beg for my life, I guess.”

 

Janis laughs. “You don’t seem like the type who would.”

 

“Didn’t I just say seeing people’s guts can be too much?” Cady argues lightheartedly. “I do not want my insides on the outside, thanks.”

 

The teacher notices Janis’s lack of participation and tells her to get a move on, and Cady pats her shoulder when she shrinks into herself, humiliated.

 

“You gonna sit with me and Damian at lunch?” she whispers, having Janis take notes now.

 

“Yeah, he already invited me,” Janis replies, cheeks still burning. “If that’s okay.”

 

Cady gives her a look. “Of course it’s okay. The more the merrier. It’s just us two, since, well… You know. We aren’t exactly well-liked.”

 

That takes Janis by surprise. They’re both friendly. Maybe it’s the fact they aren’t straight?

 

Which totally doesn’t fill Janis with sudden paranoia at all. She got a sense about Cady even prior to them speaking—the flannel was a dead giveaway, honestly—and Damian was clearly gay at first glance, so Janis is now even more aware of how she looks.

 

“Question, do I look like a dyke?” she hisses to Cady as they’re exiting the room.

 

Cady seems startled, stopping in the hallway to look at Janis. “Is that a trick question?”

 

“No, really,” Janis says, and looks down at herself. “Like, is it obvious?”

 

Cady looks her up and down, then blows air out of her cheeks. “Uh, kinda? No straight girl here looks like you. But that’s not a bad thing.”

 

Janis tugs at her jacket, which she’s been working on for two years and just recently decided there was no room left. It’s littered with pins, patchwork, and paintings on the arms and back; wearing it gives her a sense of security. But now it feels like a target on her back.

 

There’s not much she can do about it now. The rest of her wardrobe is all similar, even without her jackets, and she can’t exactly grow out her side cut overnight.

 

It didn’t used to matter to her at her old schools. Something about being in the same one as her homophobic foster sister makes her worry.

 

She’s built her entire look around her identity in hopes that no matter where she goes, there’ll be someone who understands, who just knows she has something that doesn’t change even if her life constantly does. She’s gotten shit for it before, obviously, so she feels like she’s gotten less brave. It definitely has to do with Regina because she dressed like this two years ago and being a dyke at fourteen was significantly harder than at sixteen. Now Janis feels like she has outed herself to a less than accommodating school, ruled by the girl she lives with.

 

“It’s okay,” Cady is saying, grabbing Janis’s hand. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

 

Janis lets her guard down for a minute, allowing herself to look scared. “How do you know?”

 

Cady shrugs. “Nobody’s ever hurt me, and I’m out,” she says. Janis is vaguely aware of the looks they’re receiving as people pass, both sizing Janis up and taking note of the gentle hand holding. “Not by choice, but you get it. The worst that happens to me is guys making dumbass jokes about bisexuality to my face. People don’t really get it, but I’ve never been…attacked.”

 

“You were outed?” Janis says softly, focusing on that part of her speech in particular. A cloud passes over Cady’s face and she looks down at her shoes. “I mean—God, I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it,” Janis amends quickly.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Cady reassures, tugging Janis back since she went to walk away. “It’s fine. I can tell you later, just not here, with everyone…staring at us.” Now she notices, and drops Janis’s hand reluctantly. “I won’t lie, people might be dicks whether you’re out or not. It’s generally not very many people who act weird, the majority in this school don’t care.”

 

Her eyes drift and she bites her lip, contemplating something. Janis is mildly comforted, though senses a _but_ coming. Her brain instantly jumps to Regina, and her body is suddenly gripped by terror. If Regina outed Cady, Janis is done for.

 

“Well, whatever,” Cady ultimately says. “You’re gonna be fine. People might make comments. But I’ve learned to tune it out. Which might be easier said than done for you. But you got me and Damian now, ’kay? Hanging with us might make things worse but we _will_ protect you.”

 

It seems Janis is taller than every other girl in school and she _looks_ like she doesn’t take any shit, but her heart still softens and she feels a rush of immense gratitude for Cady. This is why she dresses the way she does—to attract people like Cady and Damian. She tries to focus on that for the next few anxiety-ridden hours until lunch.

 

Mrs. George was kind enough to pack her a lunch, so as soon as Janis spots her friends, she heads over to their table. Damian does a drumroll and cheers when she sits down.

 

“Hello, our newest baby gay,” he sings, and she strikes a quick pose.

 

“Welcome to our table,” Cady says, gesturing grandly. “We’re the greatest people you will ever meet.”

 

“I do not doubt that,” Janis giggles, opening her lunchbox.

 

A short girl marches up to their table then and leans on her hands. “Hey,” she says in a gruff voice, but her tone is friendly. “Y’all hear about that girl who fucked herself with a tampon?”

 

Damian spits out his milk and Janis very narrowly avoids being sprayed with it.

 

“Ew,” Cady says, nose wrinkled as she puts her corn dog down. “No. What?”

 

“Yeah, it was on Buzzfeed,” the girl says. “Fucking wild.”

 

That’s when she notices Janis, and her eyes get comically wide as she straightens up. “Shit. Uh, hi. Terrible first impression there, sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Janis tells her, having heard and said much worse.

 

“Janis, this is Sonja,” Cady announces, and Sonja awkwardly offers a tiny hand, which Janis politely shakes. “She’s the founder of our school’s LGBT support group thing.”

 

It must be Janis’s lucky day, because she evidently isn’t the only one out here expressing her sexuality through her clothes. Sonja screams _not straight._

 

“Support group thing,” Sonja repeats, rolling her eyes. “Your mom bakes brownies every other week for my support group thing.” She turns to Janis and says, “Every Friday the North Shore gays have a good ol’ time queering it up in the auditorium talking about gay stuff. It’s a riot. There’s only, like, twenty of us, most of them being Damian’s theater friends. But it’s pretty fun.”

 

“Is there a signup sheet or can I just show up?” Janis asks, intrigued.

 

“Just show up,” Sonja says, seeming pleased she’s interested. “It’s from three thirty to six. You don’t have to stay that long, though. But sometimes we watch movies.”

 

“Out of a very small selection,” Damian says grimly.

 

“Yeah, the lesbian shit is always borderline pornographic,” Sonja says with a huff. “And a lot of gay movies only focus on white guys. Yawn.”

 

“And the ones with bisexual leads always end up cheating,” Cady adds, pouting.

 

“So if you know of any valid gay movies that don’t end with someone dying or cheating, please share,” Sonja says seriously to Janis, who nods her understanding. “Okay, dyke’s gotta bounce. Nice to meet cha, Janis. Later, losers.”

 

She claps Janis on the back as she passes and the three of them chorus their goodbyes.

 

“That was wild from start to finish,” Janis comments affectionately.

 

Cady laughs. “That’s Sonja for you. I love her. She’s kinda rowdy but she’s with you through and through. When…it happened, she was the first person to forgive my sins as a Plastic to welcome me into her group. That’s how I met Damian.”

 

He rubs her back. Janis arches her eyebrow at the mention of the word _plastic._ Cady swiftly remembers Janis has no idea what that means, so she clarifies. “Oh, right. So, when I was in sixth grade, I was new here, so that group,” and she nods to a table behind them, and Janis already knows who’s sitting there before she turns, “sorta took me under their wings.”

 

It’s Regina, sitting pretty as a picture with two other girls, a texting brunette with huge hair and a ditsy looking blonde combing hers with a fork.

 

“The one in the middle is Regina George,” Damian says scornfully. “That’s Gretchen Wieners, she knows everything about everybody. It’s why her hair is so big, it’s full of secrets.”

 

“The other blonde is Karen Smith,” Cady adds.

 

“She’s so dumb, she once asked me how to spell orange,” Damian deadpans.

 

“They’re her cronies,” Cady continues bitterly. “And I used to be.”

 

There’s a pause as she collects her thoughts, then inhales and says, “Well, anyway. Shit went down with the Plastics—that’s what we call them, you can see why—and Sonja was there to help me pick up the pieces. That was last year. We’ve been friends ever since.”

 

Cady clearly still doesn’t want to discuss specifics just yet, but Janis gets the gist. The Plastics more than likely outed Cady. She’s glad Cady had support from Sonja and Damian, but Janis’s stomach keeps sinking over the fact Regina was involved.

 

The edge in her voice when she called Janis a dyke makes more sense now. Not that Janis is surprised, or expected anything less. But she has to _live_ with that girl. And she can’t tell either of her friends. Not that she doesn’t trust them, she’s just too afraid to bring it up.

 

She wouldn’t know how to, anyway. How do you say “Yeah, Regina’s parents are fostering me which means I have to live with that homophobic demon,” and make that sound normal? You can’t. Her friends would be horrified for her.

 

What are the odds, though, that Janis gets fostered by the parents of the bitch who ruined her new friend’s life? It’s just her fucking luck. Now she has to lie to _them._

 

Well, not lie, just harbor the truth. It can’t be a lie if nobody outright asks if she knows Regina. Neither Damian or Cady have asked about her history yet, probably waiting for the right time, so Janis needs to come up with some story. She has plenty of memories, she can just recycle an old foster situation to suit her needs.

 

But then _that_ would be lying. Janis’s past behavioral issues often had to do with lying; it acted as a defense mechanism, to keep herself safe from what she perceived were threats.

 

Only her friends aren’t the threat, Regina is. So as much as Janis will not enjoy pretending she has no connection to Regina, they cannot know the truth. It’d probably make things weird between her and Cady and as long as she’s here and has real friends, she wants this to be good. She’s never asked much of the universe, but wishes for this to be normal.

 

Her only hope is that if it all crashes down, she won’t be given up on by her actual friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit shorter, but not by a lot. have a great weekend my loves!
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  outing mention   
>  biphobia   
>  d slur

Janis is genuinely impressed with herself for surviving until three thirty. By the end of the day, her feet hurt, her back hurts, and her head hurts, but she gets Cady and Damian’s numbers so it’s worth it. She’s still relieved when Cady takes off first, because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if Cady recognized Regina’s mom’s car.

 

Honestly, Regina’s goal of keeping her and Janis under wraps might actually unravel, because undoubtedly someone is going to see Mrs. George at some point.

 

The freshman and sophomores left first since none of them can drive, and Janis only knows that because the kids in her grade and up are walking to their cars. Damian bids her farewell with a fistbump, and she watches him twirl his keys as he does the same. Janis leans against a brick pillar, biting her nail nervously.

 

She hears a peal of laughter and then the reedy hum of Regina’s voice, and hides behind the pillar as the Plastics exit the building. The sun makes them look even glossier, and Janis stays hidden until they’re all piled into Gretchen’s white Mercedes.

 

Mrs. George arrives barely a minute after Gretchen has peeled out of the parking lot. Sixteen-year-olds actually should not be allowed to drive, Janis thinks. They all get cocky and die.

 

Janis waves and slides gratefully into the front passenger’s seat. “Hey,” she says, fighting the misplaced obligation to say _Mom._

 

“Hi, how was your day?” Mrs. George asks hopefully.

 

“Good,” Janis says, putting her backpack between her knees. “Long, but good.”

 

“Did you meet anybody?” Mrs. George wonders as Janis buckles her seatbelt.

 

Shit. She can’t mention Cady, not if she has a history with this woman’s daughter. “Uh, yeah, I did,” Janis replies evasively. “This kid Damian and his friend Sonja.”

 

A little white lie. That’s all it is. A ninety-nine percent truth.

 

Janis hadn’t prepared herself for having to lie to Mrs. George. It doesn’t feel right.

 

“I’m glad,” Mrs. George chirps as she turns back onto the road. “Did you wanna go right home, or would you like to get something to eat?”

 

Now that it’s mentioned, Janis still is kind of hungry. “Yeah, sure,” she replies, unable to say no to Mrs. George’s sweet face.

 

Maybe knowing that her and Regina’s relationship is rocky makes Janis sympathetic towards her. Plus Mrs. George has yet to do something that would make Janis feel unsafe; she’s been nothing but accommodating, and not too overbearing.

 

Honestly, she’s the first mom to see and respect Janis as a person. Janis doesn’t feel like an intruder in the Georges’ home, or an unsightly decorative piece they can’t get rid of. Both Mrs. George and her husband are good people, and it’s been a very long time since Janis thought that about anyone. Usually she’s disappointed immediately, within hours of moving in, or there is a problem that goes unfixed until she leaves.

 

Of course, the problem this time is Regina, but that doesn’t reflect on her parents. Janis hopes to find out what the fuck her deal is, because she certainly doesn’t get her snotty attitude from either of her parents. And while she can be a brat at home, her public persona is much worse, because Janis knows her parents are oblivious to the crap that goes on at school.

 

Her heart sinks when she remembers the look on Cady’s face, both times she brought up their incident. Janis can get angry about it later, because she’ll definitely need to keep herself from having some choice words with Regina. But it’s sickening to realize, yet again, she has to stay in the vicinity of someone who already hates her for just _looking_ gay.

 

Regina would have a field day if her observations were confirmed. Janis’s throat feels tight.

 

“You okay, hon?” Mrs. George is saying. “You look peaky.”

 

“Huh?” Janis looks away from a stoplight. “Oh, sorry. No, I’m fine.”

 

“You sure? We don’t have to get food. We can just go home.”

 

Janis can feel the guilt on her face. But her voice is suddenly gone, lost in a sea of dull panic as her brain runs around in circles, all about _Regina, Regina, Regina._

 

“Let’s go home,” Mrs. George murmurs, squeezing Janis’s wrist. Janis nods and looks down at her hands, not possessing the will to insist they eat.

 

Turns out she’s not so hungry after all.

 

* * *

 

Mr. George is at work and Regina apparently didn’t come home, so the house is empty when Janis and Mrs. George return. Janis thanks her for driving her home, then heads right upstairs because she’s barely holding it together now.

 

She locks her bedroom door and shucks her backpack off, feeling like her chest is caving in. It hurts, like she’s being crushed from front to back between a machine.

 

She takes her boots off then falls back onto her bed, pulse thumping in her ears. She wants to cry, but is scared she won’t be able to stop, though she’s past due a well-deserved crying jag. Something about crying makes her feel weak.

 

She gets up and retrieves her phone, tapping into her contacts and only briefly hesitating prior to hitting the call button. There’s no guarantee she’ll get an answer, but she has to try.

 

Sharon picks up on the third ring. “Hey, kid,” she greets, and it takes everything in Janis to not burst into tears. She swallows it down hard.

 

“Hey,” she echoes, sitting on her bed. “Sorry it’s taken so long to call.”

 

“Nah, you’re fine,” Sharon assures, and Janis can picture her waving her hand. “I get it. I was gonna call you, but figured I’d give you some space. How are things?”

 

“Things are good,” Janis tells her calmly, forcing her voice to remain steady. “Had my first day at school today. It was fine. I made some friends.”

 

Sharon gasps in delight. “Oh, good, I’m glad! Good for you, honey. Are classes okay?”

 

“Yeah, they’re fine. My usual. I already have homework, so that oughta keep me occupied for the evening.” Janis sighs. “What about you? What’ve you been doing?”

 

“Oh, ya know. Paperwork. Talking to people. Finding homes for kiddos. My usual.”

 

Janis smiles. So much of her vocabulary has come from Sharon. “Doing the Lord’s work.”

 

Sharon laughs. “Yeah, actually, it kinda is. Well, tell me about your friends, what are they like? What’s the vibe at school? Do you like it there?”

 

Janis tells her as honestly as she can about school itself, but is happy to discuss her friends. With Sharon, she can mention Cady, and Sharon is thrilled to hear about the LGBT group and that Janis plans on going this Friday. Sharon is the first and only person Janis has come out to, so her support significantly alleviates the weight in Janis’s chest.

 

They talk for nearly forty minutes, until Janis forgets why she called in the first place: to hear Sharon’s voice, the only voice that grounds her when she feels like falling apart. She wishes it was easy to ask for help about Regina, but Sharon would immediately say she should leave, and Janis doesn’t want that. The shortest she’s stayed with anyone was twenty-seven days—she isn’t about to break that record.

 

She briefly considers editing the situation so it seems like the perpetrator is at school, which is not entirely untrue, but she definitely can’t lie to Sharon. Sharon knows when she’s lying, even over the phone, so she won’t take that risk. Not today.

 

Ultimately Sharon has to get back to work, but gently reminds Janis to call her whenever if she needs someone to talk to. Janis assures her she will. Neither really want to be the first to hang up, but the call has to end, like everything in Janis’s life. Only then does she start to cry.

 

* * *

 

Sobbing for an hour is cathartic, but exhausting. Janis removes what little makeup there’s left, and takes an early shower to scrub off all the school germs.

 

She’s wringing out her hair when she hears the muffled sound of girlish laughter, and she feels sick all over again. She rushes out in her towel to make sure her door is still locked, and briefly considers putting her desk chair under the handle, then does so after throwing on sweats. She is perfectly aware it’s ridiculous, but doesn’t want to take a chance. If Regina and her bitch ass friends want in here, they can bust the door down.

 

Janis can hear music in Regina’s room and the occasional obnoxious cackle from Gretchen—it doesn’t help her anxiety at all, knowing they’re so close. She lays on her bed with her laptop, watching _Parks & Recreation _to keep her mind occupied.

 

She yelps when her phone suddenly buzzes with a text, but it’s just Cady. Janis blinks at it for a moment, her brain beginning to feel fried.

 

 

That coaxes a laugh out of Janis. She pauses the show so she can respond.

 

 

She feels obligated to apologize for her twitchy behavior, mortified when she remembers.

 

 

Janis wonders what Cady looked like before embracing the reality of her situation. She rolls her lip under her thumb, wondering what to say next. She wants to just ask, but Cady has to choose when she wants to relive her trauma.

 

 

Jesus, it’s like she and Janis are the same fucking person. That makes perfect sense to Janis: putting others’ feelings before your own because you don’t want to be a burden anymore.

 

 

Tears are full in Janis’s eyes again, and she swipes them away with her hand. A new wave of raw hatred and rage crashes over her.

 

Regina is downright evil. You don’t turn on someone you’re supposedly friends with and out them to your school. How could anyone, no matter how shallow and self-absorbed, do that to somebody they love? Their friendship must’ve not meant a lot to Regina if she outed Cady and booted her from the group.

 

 

The HAHA bubble appears on Janis’s text, and she grins a bit.

 

 

Janis takes the hint and doesn’t push it. She resumes her show but continues texting with her new friend, and just like with Sharon, she forgets she was even upset. Cady is funny and witty and they have the same sense of humor; at the very least Janis is glad Cady gets her obscure references from social media, though it’s hardly surprising.

 

They talk until Cady says she should stop putting off her homework, and Janis encourages her to go, albeit reluctantly. Cady sends a Bitmoji of her blowing a kiss, and Janis replies with one of hers tied to a cluster of rainbow heart balloons.

 

Janis notices it’s gotten quiet in Regina’s room, and dark in hers. She turns on her nightstand lamp and shuts her computer, figuring she should start her own homework. She doesn’t dare to venture outside of her room even though her stomach is growling and dinner is most likely soon, anyway. She doesn’t care if it makes her look antisocial, but she’ll eat in her room if she has to. She’s not faking smiles for them.

 

She doesn’t know when or how she’ll have to finally meet Regina’s friends, but she’s positive it will be a disaster. She wouldn’t put kidnapping and torturing her past them.

 

She gets her homework done in an hour, and the upstairs is still quiet. Maybe they went home, or Regina left again. She decides to text Mrs. George to find out.

 

 

_Oh no, they’re still here_ means something different to Janis. She makes a face at her phone.

 

 

Mrs. George replies with lots of heart emojis, and it makes Janis’s own heart feel warm. She’s not too thrilled about having to skirt around why she hasn’t met the other Plastics, though.

 

God, this whole _nobody can know you live with me_ thing is so stupid. Regina can’t truly expect to keep Janis a secret for however long she’s here. Janis is convinced her own friends don’t know about her. Janis gets that stabbing feeling again at the reminder Regina is ashamed that a foster girl is living under her parents’ million dollar roof.

 

Imagine being so obsessed with your fabricated image that you’d dehumanize another person to that extent. Lots of kids—far too many—are in foster care; it’s not their fault they ended up there for whatever reason. People like the Georges who open their hearts and homes to them do a lot of good for these kids. Regina should be glad her gigantic house can be a safe place for some _dykey brat_ who doesn’t have a family. At this point, Janis might never, because she’s only halfway safe here. Because Regina is selfish, and cruel, and ignorant.

 

For once in Janis’s life, the reason she leaves won’t be because she clawed someone’s face in a fit of rage, or got into too many fights at school, or swore at an adult. She’ll leave because Regina George is an evil dictator, and she drove a hurting, angry, parentless lesbian out of the home that was supposed to become _theirs_.

 

The kicker is Janis will find some way to make it her fault so Regina’s perfect life doesn’t suffer the consequences. So her sweet, lonely mother won’t grieve for the daughter she could have had, but rather be glad Janis is gone. So Regina’s friends won’t turn their nose jobs up at her for even having been associated with some loser dyke. So nobody at school whispers about that girl Regina’s parents fostered, instead continuing to gas her up, oblivious.

 

Everything will go back to normal. Janis will return to the group home to start the process over again until she lands in another temporary home.

 

She’s suddenly so angry she wants to punch something, or someone. Or maybe just scream. Or do something to let this out. So she grabs a pillow, locks herself in her closet, and goes to sit in the farthest corner. Then she presses her face into it and screeches until there’s nothing left inside her tired, tired body to give.

 

* * *

 

Later, when Mrs. George taps on the door, Janis hurries to roll her chair back into place prior to opening it. Mrs. George beams and offers the slice of pizza she brought.

 

“Hope you like pepperoni,” she teases, and Janis takes it.

 

“Thank you, Mrs. George,” she says, speaking softly because her throat hurts.

 

“Oh, sweetie, call me Stephanie,” Mrs. George says, touching her arm. “I mean, if you want. I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary. Not here.”

 

Janis would have called her by her name by now if she wasn’t so afraid of what that meant. Being on a first-name basis with her “moms” always means she’s grown to like them.

 

“Okay,” she agrees, nodding awkwardly. “Stephanie. Thank you.”

 

“Enjoy,” Mrs. George—Stephanie—whispers, then hurries back downstairs. Janis sighs and shuts her door, biting into her warm pizza.

 

The yelling starts barely fifteen minutes later, and Janis jumps in her seat. She goes up to her door and presses an ear against it, wondering what the hell is going on. It’s Regina and her mother, not the catfight between Plastics she was expecting.

 

Apparently her friends have left suddenly, because there’s no way Regina and her mom would be at each other’s throats with guests over. Janis feels the blood drain from her face when her name comes up, followed by footsteps on the stairs.

 

“I cannot believe you lied to me,” Stephanie is roaring, voice dripping with hurt and fury. “About Janis, no less. You looked your father and I in the eye and said you were excited.”

 

“What was I supposed to say?!” Regina screams. “That I _didn’t_ want her here? The application already went through, it’s not like you were going to change your mind because of me, Mom.”

 

“Well, no, but you still should’ve been honest,” Stephanie argues. “We could’ve worked out an understanding, or a compromise. I don’t know. But I am just appalled—I am _ashamed_ that you didn’t tell your friends about her. She’s not something to be embarrassed by, Regina,” and now Regina’s door slams as they keep fighting in her room, “she’s a sweet girl and needed a place to go, and that place just so happened to be ours.”

 

_“This is my house, too, Mom!”_ Regina shrieks tearfully, and Janis gets goosebumps for some odd reason. “And she’s _weird,_ okay? How could I introduce her to my friends? It’s not like we were all gonna have a slumber party tonight. She doesn’t fit in with us.”

 

There’s a pause, then Stephanie evidently lowers her voice because Janis can no longer hear them. It takes her a second to pull herself away from the door, locking it again before returning to the comfort of her bed, the only place in this house where she currently feels safe. No, she does not fit in with the Plastics. She doesn’t fit in anywhere. That’s the whole fucking point.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for your support these first few weeks! ♡
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  outing mention

Needless to say, Janis is afraid to leave her room the next morning.

 

She pads down the stairs, following the smell of coffee, nervously anticipating what she might see when she enters the kitchen. Stephanie is nowhere in sight, but Alex is shuffling around in his pajamas. Janis spots Regina eating a Pop-Tart in the dining room.

 

“Oh, good morning, Janis,” Alex says when he notices her, and she grins shyly. Regina’s head whips in her direction, and her glare is just as effective even with such distance between them.

 

Alex asks if he can make her anything, but Janis politely declines, saying she’s not too hungry. To her delicate surprise, he doesn’t push it.

 

“Where’s Stephanie?” Janis asks quietly, retrieving her pre-made lunch from the fridge, smiling at the little note Stephanie left on top. _Have a great day!!!_ with lots of doodle hearts.

 

“Sleeping,” Alex answers with a shrug. “She had a rough night.”

 

They both glance in Regina’s direction, then back at each other. Janis bites her tongue to hold back some snide remark, wondering how much he knows.

 

“Well, I gotta get ready for work, so Regina’s driving you both,” Alex says next, and both girls react accordingly: Janis anxiously clams up and Regina lets out a horrified cry.

 

“Regina, come on,” her father scolds as she gets up from the table, angrily throwing away the rest of her Pop-Tart. “Janis can’t drive herself.”

 

“I hate this family,” Regina mutters as she storms past and goes back upstairs, presumably to either brush her teeth or devise an escape plan so Janis gets abandoned.

 

There’s a frustrated silence on Alex’s part, and Janis can’t look at his face, chest constricting with guilt even though it isn’t her fault.

 

Except it is. She’s here, ruining Regina’s life, so Regina is acting out because of her.

 

When Regina struts back down the stairs, car keys in hand, she looks murderous. She jerks her head toward the front door so Janis knows to follow, and Janis reluctantly leaves the warm kitchen, waving to Alex in farewell. He calls for them to have a good day.

 

Janis shivers as they step out into the November morning. She watches Regina expertly walk down the porch steps in her strappy heels.

 

Janis waits while Regina gets her car from the garage, returning in a red Lexus. Janis ogles it as she walks around to the passenger’s side, thinking if she dies at least it’s a nice car.

 

“Don’t touch anything,” Regina warns before the door is even closed.

 

Janis just looks at her until she’s squirming. Two can play this game.

 

Regina turns the heat on and leaves the driveway. Janis does inventory in her backpack to occupy herself, wanting to check her phone for texts from Cady but paranoid Regina will snatch it out of her hand and toss it onto the road.

 

Nothing terrible happens for the five minutes they’re stuck in this car together, but Janis is on edge right up until Regina suddenly pulls over by a sidewalk.

 

“Out,” is all she says, turning her music down.

 

Janis raises her eyebrows. “What? Why? We aren’t at school yet.”

 

Regina’s eyes flare. “Exactly. You’re walking the rest of the way. Anyone sees you showing up with me, and I’m done for. Get the fuck out.” She reaches over and pops open Janis’s door.

 

Janis gapes at her. “How far do I have to walk?”

 

“Like, two minutes,” Regina grumbles. “I’m being generous. Leave or it’s five tomorrow.”

 

Janis grabs her backpack and climbs out of the car. She departs with one finger up.

 

“Classy!” Regina hollers, then speeds away. It’s cold, but Janis is only trembling from rage.

 

When she gets to school, it’s been three minutes.

 

* * *

 

“You look like someone took a dump in your locker,” Damian comments, sliding up to Janis as she’s swapping out books. That makes her expression worse.

 

“Gross,” she replies, but doesn’t elaborate. His face softens when he realizes something’s not right, and she heaves a sigh when he asks what’s wrong. “Nothing. Bad morning, is all.”

 

He puts an arm around her shoulders as they head for homeroom together. Typically the next question would be about her parents, or an annoying sibling, or a pet-related incident. But he knows her life isn’t like everybody else’s, so he’s grappling for options.

 

“I’m fine,” she tells him as they separate to take their seats.

 

He pouts, still concerned. “Okay. But I can be serious if you wanna talk about it.”

 

That makes her smile as she’s taking out her sketchpad. “Thanks, bud.”

 

She bumps her foot to his leg, and they fall quiet after that. She retrieves a pencil and flips to a page she was working on in the car on Friday, and hasn’t continued since. It’s a simple sketch of a dog she saw that day, and his body is faintly outlined.

 

Janis remembers what Sharon said, about Janis decorating her room with her artwork by the time Sharon comes back to see her. She hasn’t been able to paint in a while, and misses it. It wasn’t something she ever considered doing, but when all else failed, art therapy seemed to click with her at twelve. She’s grown massively as an artist since then, and while she doesn’t think her stuff is spectacular, it’s an outlet. It helps to get what’s in her head onto paper.

 

The world melts away when she’s focused on art.

 

She’s excited to reunite with Cady in science, and Cady squeals and hugs her. Instantly Janis feels lighter than before, like the weight of Regina’s behavior lifts now that she’s near Cady.

 

“Thanks for talking to me yesterday,” Cady says at one point.

 

Janis shrugs. “Sure. Sorry I’m not good at advice.”

 

“No, what you said helped. You’re right, it’s still recent.” Cady purses her lips, thinking. “I just feel weird for still letting it bother me. Like, it’s what Regina wants.”

 

Janis’s empty stomach rolls. “Well. Maybe so. But I still let lots of things bother me, the trick is not showing that it bothers me. And people who have hurt me… They didn’t do it on purpose. Most of them, anyway. I don’t know, that doesn’t really pertain to you at all. Nevermind.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Cady assures, hand on Janis’s elbow.

 

Janis shakes her head, cringing at herself. “My point is, just ignore her in return. Pretend you aren’t still affected by what she and her friends did to you.”

 

“Wouldn’t that just piss her off?” Cady points out nervously. “Wouldn’t she do something else to keep making me miserable if she thinks I don’t care anymore? I mean, it’s not like I go up to her and _say_ I’m still hurting. She knows what some people say about me but we don’t, like…interact enough for her to see if it upsets me.”

 

“Then you’re good,” Janis says. “She doesn’t give a shit about you anymore. She’s not going to waste her time on you if she’s already done the most to fuck up your life.”

 

Her tone isn’t aggressive but the words come out that way, and she quickly looks at Cady with regret. “I’m sorry, that sounded bitchy.”

 

Cady shakes her head, caramel curls bouncing. “No, you’re right,” she says again, but Janis can’t detect what’s in her eyes. “She already outed me, what else can she possibly do? She’s dating my crush, so I guess there’s that. But other than that…”

 

She trails off, but Janis is effectively disconnected from this conversation at the mention of the word _crush._ “Regina’s dating your crush?” she says, her voice suddenly far, far away.

 

Cady’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink, though. “Yeah. Aaron Samuels. He moved here this summer, they hooked up at a party or something. I didn’t know that when I met him in calculus when school started. Even after I found out, I still liked him. I mean, he sits in front of me, how can I ignore him? We’re not friends, though. I’ve barely said a word to him. I let him borrow my eraser that first day, but I’m not tempting fate.”

 

She sighs. Janis wants to laugh, as mean and hypocritical as it would be. She just met Cady, and she thinks she’s really cute, and sweet, and funny, and beautiful.

 

So, she gets it. And she slams the lid on it before it can turn into anything else. She can’t like Cady—it’s against the rules. She already opened herself up to Stephanie, anyone else would just be a mistake. Janis has never had real crushes or been in love before. She can’t possibly let it happen now. Not here, not with Cady.

 

“Why’s Aaron your crush?” she wants to know, taking notes again today. Keeping it casual.

 

“He’s just cute,” Cady admits. “He has swoopy hair. And shiny eyes. And he always smiles at me. But I’m too scared to talk to him because obviously I don’t want Regina to know.”

 

Regina would probably go ballistic if she knew her ex-best friend was crushing on her current boyfriend. Janis didn’t even know she was seeing someone.

 

Cady points him out as they’re sitting down for lunch later. Janis watches as a tall kid with nice biceps takes a seat next to Regina, and she makes a face when they kiss.

 

“Mood,” Cady and Damian say simultaneously.

 

“Well, his hair is definitely swoopy,” is all Janis can think to say, a bit of an edge to her voice. It isn’t cool, but perhaps she’s a bit jealous. And even though she’s gay, she can see why Cady’s into him. She’s a lesbian, not blind. And she sees it.

 

“We didn’t get the chance to show you around yesterday,” Damian says, ending that convo. It must’ve begun to show on Janis’s face that she’s annoyed. “Janis, hon, you should know who you’re dealing with in this hellhole. C’mere.”

 

He stands and she goes to be next to him, and he starts pointing to each table to explain who sits there and why, with helpful comments from Cady. Janis waves when she spots Sonja and Cady throws up a peace sign to a table of boys in blue and yellow varsity jackets.

 

“The Mathletes,” Damian explains. “Cady’s the only girl in the group.”

 

“Sounds like my worst nightmare,” Janis jokes, but actually isn’t kidding.

 

Cady laughs, though. “They aren’t so bad. They’re cool about me being bi, at least. They think they’re super tough and defend me sometimes.”

 

Janis sits back down, but is glad to hear that. “Well, good.”

 

“Tyler’s bi, too, actually,” Cady adds, as Damian splits a Hostess cupcake with her. “He’s shy, so he doesn’t come hang with Sonja’s group. He’s only out to the Mathletes, anyway.”

 

“Any tips for Friday?” Janis asks then, taking the Oreo Damian offers her.

 

“What do you mean?” he asks, face stuffed with cupcake.

 

“Like, when I show up, do I just…talk to people, or what?” Janis hates small talk and despite looking forward to being around other gay people, social interaction with large groups isn’t her strong suit. She’s afraid of her anxiety getting the best of her.

 

“We just fuck around in the auditorium,” Cady says with a shrug. “You can sit with Damian and I. Nobody’s gonna judge you if you’re nervous.”

 

“I think you’ll warm up to them all pretty quick,” Damian says confidently. “Like, no one will be super up in your business about why you’re new here or anything. We just let each other be.”

 

Janis understands why. With so much going on in their individual lives, whether they’re out or not, sometimes it’s nice to just be left alone and not feel bad about it.

 

Janis hears Regina’s voice in her head— _she doesn’t fit in with us._ Well, good. She’s glad she doesn’t look like a Plastic or could potentially be one of them. She has people she’d rather be with right here, across from her. So as much as it hurt to hear, again, that Regina hates her, it only reinforced the fact they’re different for a reason.

 

Janis is positive Friday will be fine, because she’ll have Cady and Damian looking out for her. Letting her guard down is never a good idea, but maybe she can lower it just enough for now.

 

Long enough to know what it’s like to feel truly wanted.

 

* * *

 

Damian comes to visit Janis during art class, since he has a free period. He sits on a stool and they talk about nothing as Janis paints, going overboard since it’s the first time she’s gotten to do it in a while. She doesn’t have much direction today, simply painting wavy rainbows with as many colors as she can fit onto the canvas.

 

He asks how she got into art, to which she replies, “I’ve had a fucked up life,” and he nods, no judgement whatsoever in his face. Damian always seems to understand her.

 

He gets quiet for a minute, then says, “Am I allowed to ask how things are going? At your new foster home? You don’t have to talk about it, though.”

 

Janis shrugs, but panic flutters in her chest, unsure what she’s supposed to tell him. “Yeah, it’s fine. Things are fine. I was mad this morning because my, uh…stupid foster sister dropped me off on the sidewalk so I had to walk the rest of the way. Yeah,” for Damian had gasped, “I have no idea what her problem is. She didn’t want me in her car anymore, I guess.”

 

Everything about that is true, she reminds herself. She can still be honest, to a fault. And she’s not a bad person for editing out Regina.

 

“Yikes,” Damian breathes. “Are you gonna tell y—her parents?”

 

He fumbles for once, but she doesn’t care. She knows he’s trying to be respectful and not put her in an awkward position. “Nah,” Janis admits, shaking her head. “There’s no point.”

 

He frowns. “Was she having a bad day or does she…not like you?”

 

Janis hesitates, wondering just how much of this she should share. Because it’s true, even if Regina isn’t being mentioned. She doesn’t want Damian trying to intervene or make things not suck so much. She can totally picture him and Cady brandishing pitchforks and torches in her honor. Which would be sweet, but unrealistic. And disastrous.

 

“I don’t know,” Janis ultimately says. “She’s probably just mad there’s a stranger in her house all of a sudden. She is—was—an only child.”

 

“She still should be nicer,” Damian muses, arms folded. “Lemme guess, she doesn’t pull shit in front of her parents, only when you’re alone. And you don’t want to tell them because…”

 

“There’s no point,” Janis says again. “It’s not like…y’know, I’m gonna be with them very long.”

 

She regrets admitting it out loud, because Damian’s face breaks her heart. “What makes you say that?” he asks, not hurt, just saddened.

 

Janis’s throat feels tight, and she busies herself by picking out a different brush. She thinks on it for a moment, and he waits, knowing she isn’t going to leave him hanging.

 

“It’s not that I don’t get attached,” she ultimately says, running a fingertip over the bristles. “I’m not supposed to, and I try not to, but it happens. And when it does, I get scared. And I fuck it all up for myself, because I don’t… It doesn’t seem right for me to stay, or for them to love me in return. I’ve been in thirteen homes in twelve years. When I was really little it wouldn’t work out because I was a fucking nightmare. But then I got older and I internalized a lot of stuff and still wasn’t very likable. I have no redeeming qualities once I do one bad thing. Most of it’s on purpose, because permanence is…fucking terrifying.”

 

She looks down at her shoes for a minute, collecting her thoughts.

 

“So, yeah. It always ends before it has a chance to begin,” she continues quietly. “Some I give chances to and others disappoint me right off the bat. Everybody’s different. And I’m the idiot who gets attached no matter how many times I promise myself not to, because even though I know how it’ll end, I want so badly to feel normal.”

 

She lightly kicks the leg of her easel, chewing her lip now, painting forgotten. “So I don’t see a point in telling my foster parents their daughter is an asshole, because I’ll be gone in a couple months, anyway. Back to the drawing board until I’m eighteen and can do what I want.”

 

She inhales sharply then, realizing she doesn’t have much time left to find a family. Even if she managed to stay with the Georges, the adoption process is hell. She knows things from being around Sharon. Things could only be finalized right before or after she turns eighteen—at that point she could still technically be adopted, but they wouldn’t have to be her guardians. So she isn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.

 

She doesn’t like thinking that far ahead, anyway. She’s scared of things being resolute but that doesn’t mean having a family isn’t something she wants.

 

She just doesn’t know how to want it and keep the feeling of wanting it. She runs away from all the good things life gives her. She’s stuck in a constant loop of blaming herself, blaming them, blaming the universe. Obviously there have been times where she’s been given up on without purposefully doing anything to warrant it, but there’s still something inherently wrong with her if it keeps happening, no matter how it occurs.

 

“So,” Janis ultimately sighs, stepping back to tilt her head at her painting, “that’s why I have to just deal with her until I leave. Because telling on her won’t really help my cause.”

 

They’re in the far back near the supply closet, so nobody’s paying attention to her or listening to her aside from Damian. But she still feels exposed suddenly, like she’s a sliced nerve that’s pulsing blood all over the floor, covering Damian with it. Tainting her surroundings, fucking it all up the way she always does. It always starts by being honest.

 

The bell rings then, and Janis gestures for Damian to take a look at her painting. He taps his chin, looking at it from different angles, coaxing a laugh from Janis at his theatrics.

 

Then he says, “This is how I feel when I see a hot guy.”

 

Janis giggles. “Me but with girls,” she agrees amiably.

 

He gives her a sideways hug and a noogie then, but squeezes her shoulder before he walks away. That’s all she needed him to do after that.

 

He’s a good one. The universe threw her a bone, and maybe a sign, too. That maybe she’ll still have Damian once it falls apart.

 

* * *

 

“You need a ride home?” he asks as they’re leaving at three thirty.

 

“Huh? Oh, no,” Janis says quickly. “I could actually just walk, the house isn’t far from here.” It’s not like she expects Regina to drive her home.

 

“Do you have to go?” Cady wants to know, sounding disappointed. “Like, do your—uh—your foster parents want you home right away?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Janis says with a shrug, figuring she could just tell Stephanie she’s with her friends. Regina probably plans on leaving with hers. “Why?”

 

“Might you wanna hang out or something?” Cady continues, rising onto her toes. “I have video games. And horror movies. And ice cream.”

 

“Let’s go,” Janis says, looping her elbow through Cady’s, and Cady laughs delightedly. After the day she’s had, Janis deserves to just chill. She doesn’t want to think about Regina, or her foster parents, or how she can’t tell her friends the truth. She wants to be fake happy. For now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brace yourselves for this one...
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  trauma mention   
>  dissociation

Janis texts Stephanie during the drive back to Cady’s house, letting her know who she’s with and where they’re going. Stephanie says okay, but asks Janis to check in every now and then. Janis can roll with that. Any other mom she’d risk pissing off, but not Stephanie.

 

Cady’s parents are still working, so they have the house to themselves. They’re greeted at the door by a clumsy yellow lab, and Janis bends down to his level to accept his curious sniffs and sweet kisses. Cady says his name is Simon.

 

They each get sodas then trample down the steps to Cady’s basement, which has carpet and cushy furniture with storage bins in the back where nobody sees them. Cady flips on the string of lights hung from the ceiling, and Janis admires the rest of the room. It has a distinct eighties vibe, with old movie and band posters plastered on the walls, shelves lined with aging books and figurines and knick knacks. Janis’s breath hitches when she spots the record player.

 

“Yeah, that was my dad’s anniversary gift to my mom a few years ago,” Cady explains. “He got a bunch of her favorite records from when they were dating.”

 

Damian puts a hand over his heart. “They’re the most valid heteros, Caddy.”

 

She laughs and flops down on one of the leather couches, Simon hopping up to lay with her. She turns on the TV, evidently putting all her trust in Janis not touching anything that could break. Janis holds her soda can with both hands as she slowly takes it all in. One house she lived in had a mini theater, but this is definitely cooler.

 

Janis sits in a recliner and puts her backpack on the floor, not thinking twice about it. She’s still far from not clinging to it like it’s a life vest at certain moments, but she’s safe here. She won’t need to make a quick getaway or worry about her friends getting into her stuff.

 

Damian and Cady fight over the remote, probably an argument they have had a million times. It’s cozy and dark down here, and the lights twinkle just right. Janis gets that feeling she had in Stephanie’s car the other day, like she’s not herself, watching and living this through someone else’s eyes. Someone Damian and Cady have known forever and not just a day, who’s a good friend and has a permanent place in their lives.

 

She feels really tired suddenly, despite the Coke she’s been sipping. She thinks back to what happened last night, jarred by how it wasn’t even twenty-four hours ago. The ire in Regina’s voice gives her chills just thinking about it.

 

“Janis? You okay?” Cady is saying, pulling Janis from her thoughts. For a moment she has no idea how she got here or where she even is, but recognizing her friend’s faces helps.

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she apologizes, shaking her head and pulling out her phone to check in with Stephanie, now that she reminded herself. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

 

“It’s okay,” Damian assures her. “You looked like you were astral projecting.”

 

That makes Janis laugh, and feel less self-conscious about it. Her friends seem to have that effect on her: normalizing how she feels.

 

A while later they decide to take Simon for a walk, giving Cady the opportunity to shit talk and gossip about her neighbors. Janis ends up crying from laughter at some of the stories she tells and Cady insists every one of them is true, pleased Janis is so amused.

 

Stephanie wants Janis home by seven, so Damian offers to drive her, saying he also needs to go. Janis surprises herself by initiating a hug with Cady at the door, and Cady squeezes her. “Literally come over whenever,” she tells her sincerely. “Just show up. I don’t care. I had fun.”

 

“I did, too,” Janis admits shyly. “Thanks, Cady. See you.”

 

Damian grabs Cady’s face and loudly kisses her cheeks in farewell, and it’s evidently his usual way of saying goodbye because she barely flinches.

 

She waves from the porch with one hand, holding Simon back by his collar with the other. It’s strange looking at her from this view, in the passenger’s seat, because while Janis is headed home, she weirdly feels like she’s leaving it.

 

* * *

 

Even though Damian would have no idea which fancy suburban neighborhood Regina George lives in, Janis still has him stop at the gates.

 

“It’s fifty degrees,” he protests as she gathers her stuff. “You wanna walk in that?”

 

“Dude, the house is, like, a two minute walk away,” Janis says, popping open her door. “It’s all good. Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“‘Kay. You’re welcome. See you, art freak,” he says affectionately.

 

Janis leaves a lipstick print kiss on the windowpane, batting her eyelashes before walking up to the gate entrance and plugging in the access code as Damian backs up his car. He waits til the gates are closed behind her to wave once more then take off.

 

Janis stops to lean against a streetlight, suddenly heavy with relief. She’s so, so lucky Damian only met Cady after the shit with the Plastics went down, or else he’d have known instantly. It’s suffocating, Janis realizes, rubbing her chest, to mold herself around Regina’s lie like this. She is bending to Regina’s will so shit won’t hit the fan.

 

Really, what would happen if Janis told the truth? Tomorrow she could lay everything out and be completely, one hundred percent honest. How would Cady react? What would Damian do? If she came clean about how Regina is treating her, they’d probably jump to defend Janis, and it’s the last thing she wants. She doesn’t wish for Cady to go through Plastic sabotage again—she doesn’t deserve it. Maybe once Janis leaves she can tell them, since it won’t matter.

 

Gretchen Wieners’ car is in the driveway, and Janis hesitates prior to going inside, shutting the door as quietly as she can behind her. Regina and her friends evidently are upstairs, because the only person who acknowledges her presence is Henry, who scurries over to greet her. She lets him sniff her, probably wondering who the hell the other dog is.

 

“Oh, hi, Janis!” Stephanie says, appearing at the top of the stairs. “How was your day?”

 

“Good,” Janis tells her, a lift in her voice at the sight of the petite woman.

 

That should scare her. That should terrify her to bits.

 

Stephanie claps, descending the staircase. “Oh, good. The others are in Regina’s room, you don’t have to worry about saying hi.” She waves a hand, and Janis raises her eyebrows.

 

“You don’t think I should meet them?” she asks, though is relieved again.

 

“I mean, you can if you want to,” Stephanie says, seeming surprised. “I just know you were a little hesitant yesterday. Speaking of…”

 

Janis tenses now, knowing what she’s going to say.

 

Stephanie takes Janis’s hand and leads her into the living room, urging her to sit on the sofa. Janis picks up Henry and puts him in Stephanie’s lap for moral support.

 

“I don’t know how much you heard last night,” Stephanie begins, rubbing her temple. “But I’m so sorry about Regina and her behavior. I wish she had been honest from the start about how she felt. But no matter what, it’s not your fault, and you’re here now. We aren’t going to…send you back, just because of her. Okay?”

 

Janis nods slowly, not actually having considered that. She believes her, though, just because Stephanie doesn’t seem like that type of person. Others have done that, but not her.

 

“How has she been at school?” Stephanie asks then, cradling her little dog.

 

Janis shrugs. “She ignores me, for the most part. I mean, we don’t really need to interact. We don’t have classes together. I have my friends, she has hers.”

 

“I was hoping you’d be friends,” Stephanie murmurs forlornly. “I thought you being here would make her loosen up a bit. She’s just so rigid and…angry, all the time. She never smiles. She only hangs out with her friends, doesn’t want anything to do with her father and I.”

 

Now Janis gets a weird feeling, some base instinct to prepare for the worst.

 

“So when we heard back from the foster agency, we weren’t just excited to meet you, but we’d hoped Regina would learn something from you,” Stephanie continues. “We’re very privileged, and very lucky to have you here. But Regina has grown up like this, and has no real sense of, you know… What’s the word…well, she lacks self-awareness, I think.”

 

Truer words have never been spoken.

 

“I know in my heart she’s a good person,” Stephanie says, though Janis sees the hint of doubt in her eyes that she most likely doesn’t even know is there. “She’s just troubled in her way and I…feel like I can’t reach her anymore.” She lifts her sad eyes then to look at Janis. “I hoped for something to click with her when she met you, to realize that not everyone is as fortunate, and it’s important to care about people outside of herself.”

 

All Janis is hearing is she’s a failed experiment, and means less to them now than she did the day she got here. Regina is still the unhappy, selfish brat she was last Friday, because Janis is apparently not the trigger she needed to get her shit together. They never meant to really care for Janis, they’ve just been using her.

 

“So, you wanted me to fix Regina,” she says hollowly, studying her hands. She needs to redo her nails. The black polish is chipping, leaving them exposed and bare.

 

Stephanie gapes at her for a long moment, realization dawning on her glamorous, plastic face. “Oh, no,” she gasps, horrified. “Oh, Janis, no, no, no—”

 

“Nah, I get it,” Janis sniffs, standing up and snatching her backpack. “I’m the poor, sad, lonely orphan kid who’s been tossed around her whole life, so automatically I’m worth less than her, and you wanted her to see how pathetic I am in hopes it would fix her bitchy attitude.”

 

She can’t remember the last time she was this angry. She can feel it pulsing through her veins and thrumming inside her chest where her heart should be. It’s just a hot ball of rage, pumping out fury instead of blood. Her vision is blurry.

 

“Well, I’m so fucking sorry,” Janis snarls to a tearful Stephanie. “I’m sorry I can’t fix her life for you.”

 

She storms out of the room and runs for the stairs, Stephanie begging for her to wait, to come back. She marches directly to her room and slams the door, locking it behind her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, her body suddenly not her own.

 

It was never hers, though, she was only meant to be a machine that revived life back into this manipulative couple’s awful daughter.

 

She ends up in the closet with her pillow again, screaming and screaming until she’s sobbing too hard to keep going, then screams some more, then ends up on her side, crying helplessly. She doesn’t care if anyone hears her; she wants them to hear her pain.

 

 _Actions have consequences,_ one mother scolded her after she broke a vase, or some prized possession she can’t recall. _Actions have consequences._

 

That only seems to apply to kids. Adults never have to be reminded they’re responsible.

 

Every adult Janis has ever encountered in the last twelve years is responsible for her tears—each one contributed to the anguish that’s now replacing the anger. All she feels is sick, alone, and deeply unloved. Being taken advantage of like this is a new one. And it hurts.

 

She’s here today, lying on this closet floor in the dark, crying her eyes out, because people are selfish, and they don’t really care as much as they say they do. There’s always a motive, there will never be a time where adults aren’t trustworthy.

 

She cries until she’s nauseous, and stumbles to the bathroom. After, she sits and cries harder, body beginning to ache from the shaking.

 

She doesn’t know how long she leans against the sink cabinet, tears streaking black down her face. That’s how she feels: the color black, void of everything but her pain.

 

* * *

 

At some point the crying has to stop, but Janis’s brain stays disconnected from her body.

 

Now she enters the numb post-breakdown stage where she’s dissociated completely from her surroundings. She showers, but doesn’t feel the heat of the water on her skin. She puts on her pajamas and washes her face but doesn’t recognize herself in the mirror.

 

She lays on her bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling, reveling in the _not feeling._ This is her mind protecting itself, because she knows if she cried any more she’d end up in the hospital. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that isn’t surprising.

 

At some point, there’s a tap on her door. “Janis?” a sniffly voice says. “I…I understand if you’re not interested in talking, but please know how sorry I am that I made it seem like we only were using you to…fix Regina. That is not at all what I meant. You had…have every right to be mad. I’m so sorry for not choosing my words correctly. I meant no disrespect.”

 

A pause, then a shaky conclusion. “Well, I’m here if you’d like to talk about it, so I can explain. I’m…I’m so sorry, honey.” Her voice breaks on a sob, and then she presumably walks away.

 

Janis closes her eyes, and lets herself float away.

 

* * *

 

Regina is forced to drive Janis to school again the following morning. Janis, who is starting to come back to herself, doesn’t have it in her to complain.

 

“You look like a zombie,” Regina remarks, glancing at her sideways. “Thanks for crashing my girls’ night, by the way. Your little meltdown made my mom send my friends home.”

 

 _Your mom made it seem like all I’m good for is making you not be an insensitive cunt,_ Janis doesn’t say. _I guess we both had a shitty night._

 

“Did _not_ enjoy telling them my parents are fostering you,” Regina sniffs, irritated. “God. Nearly died from embarrassment. They acted like they didn’t care, but I could tell it freaked them out. Gretchen even asked if you’re a lesbian since you look like one. I mean, come on. Not only are you living with me, but you’re lowkey wrecking my image. Thank God school doesn’t know.”

 

Janis remembers what Damian said, and grins for the first time since yesterday. “At this rate, you don’t even have to worry about me telling people,” she huffs. “Not when Gretchen knows.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Regina squawks defensively.

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “She brings everybody’s secrets to you, but now she knows your secret. Your parents are fostering a lesbian, oh the horror.”

 

Regina clenches her jaw, hands tightening around the wheel. “Shut up. She wouldn’t tell a soul about you, I made her promise. Her job is to ruin other people’s lives, not mine.”

 

“So you admit you and your friends are hell raisers,” Janis deadpans.

 

Regina stops the car at the same spot she parked yesterday. “My girls and I do what we have to. You see how people worship us—”

 

“They don’t worship you, they’re afraid of you,” Janis argues. “ _Because_ you steal their secrets and turn them into laughingstocks. You just make people turn on each other to make your pink lady unit seem more tight-knit. Nobody likes you, you have to understand that. There’s nothing about entitled, snobby rich girls that makes other teenagers salivate.”

 

Janis is definitely feeling like herself again, though right now she isn’t even mad, just mystified by Regina’s mindset. She cannot believe this girl actually thinks people admire her.

 

“The truth isn’t that you’re powerful,” Janis says. “You crush people down to make it seem like you are. When in reality you’re just insecure bitches taking their shit out on others who you’ve deemed inferior to you. Fact is, nobody’s inferior to anybody, or shouldn’t be. You aren’t better than me for being straight. You aren’t North Shore royalty because you’re rich and skinny and white. You aren’t royalty at all. You’ve just been the cause of other people’s pain as a messed up way of dealing with your own.”

 

Regina gapes at her and Janis studies her expression, strangely calm despite the intensity of her words. Then she mimics a Plastic smile, opens her door, and climbs out.

 

She walks thirty feet and when she glances over her shoulder, Regina’s still shell-shocked. She doesn’t even acknowledge Janis when she waggles her fingers.

 

Janis walks into school feeling better than she did yesterday. She greets Damian in homeroom with a fistbump, and he seems happy to see she’s having a better morning today. She doesn’t mention why or what just happened as they talk.

 

Janis has a moment to herself during break, which means being alone causes her to recall the events of last night. She’s suddenly weighed down by it again, now conflicted in her feelings since Stephanie attempted to apologize. She knows in her heart that Stephanie didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did, but that doesn’t stop Janis from hurting or overthinking it.

 

She doesn’t enjoy feeling like a pawn or being used to clean up a mess she didn’t make, least of all a mess that’s as difficult as Regina.

 

“You okay, Janis?” Cady’s voice is asking, and Janis jumps, startled.

 

“Oh, hi,” she says, trying to rearrange her expression so Cady won’t worry, but does a bad job at it because Cady’s face only grows deeper with concern.

 

“What happened?” she asks, taking in Janis’s fidgety body language.

 

“Nothing,” Janis lies, aware she doesn’t sound convincing. On top of the dip in her mood, she is stunned by how pretty Cady looks today. She always looks nice, but today she’s wearing a striped shirt with a denim jacket, a grey skirt with white tights and saddle shoes. Her hair is loose and wavy, eyes rimmed with light mascara.

 

“I’m fine,” Janis tries again, for Cady had raised an eyebrow.

 

“Okay,” Cady says slowly. “Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over again today. You don’t have to, but I thought I’d ask. Damian has choir so it’d be just us two.”

 

Being alone with Cady in her house? Fuck. Janis’s mission to _not_ fall in love is already failing.

 

It’s certainly tempting, and would get Janis out of having to make peace with Stephanie. But at the same time, she’s not sure if she’ll be allowed today.

 

“Um—I’d love to,” she prefaces, deflating with disappointment, “but, uh, I think my foster mom wants to, uh… Do something fun after school. I don’t know. I…told her we could.”

 

Too many _uh’s,_ but Cady doesn’t question it. “Okay,” she chirps, fixing a smile. “Grool. Maybe tomorrow. You still excited for Friday?”

 

It takes Janis a second to remember what’s on Friday, thrown by the subject change. “Yeah,” she ultimately says, nodding like a Muppet. “Yeah, I am.”

 

“It’ll be chill, I promise,” Cady tells her. “Like I said, nobody’s gonna judge you for anything. It’s a safe place with people you can be comfortable around. That’s kinda the whole point.”

 

“Do people ever try to crash it?” Janis wonders.

 

“Not really.” Cady shakes her head. “If we worried about that, we’d pick a different location. I’m sure if Sonja, who was the first out lesbian in sophomore year, is okay with us meeting up here at school, nothing will ever happen.”

 

Janis gets a weird sense of foreboding, and knows exactly who could change that.

 

They depart for their next classes then, and Janis’s mind is all over the place. She’s borderline dissociating again by the time she gets to art class, and loses herself in the experimental work her teacher has them doing today. When he comes by to see how she’s doing, he’s impressed by the use of contrasting pink and black. Only Janis knows what it represents.

 

Janis is walking toward the school entrance after the final bell when she spots Regina slipping out of a bathroom, looking particularly un-Plastic-like due to the fact she’s pale and sickly looking. But then she barks at a freshman to get out of her way.

 

Janis watches her toss her hair and strut away. Some bitches never learn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  mild slut shaming   
>  d slur/lesbophobia   
>  biphobia

Regina doesn’t wait for Janis, not that Janis expected her to. Janis walks home, dreading what will happen when she gets there. She’s cold and shivering when she walks through the door, greeted by Henry once again. As she stands from petting him, she sees Stephanie waiting for her, watching her tentatively. Janis sighs.

 

“How was school?” Stephanie asks softly as Janis slowly approaches.

 

“Fine,” Janis says, tugging off her scarf and hoping this conversation will be worth it.

 

“Janis, I’m so sorry,” Stephanie whispers again, and Janis tries not to assume her tears are for clout, to make Janis feel bad for reacting the way she did.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Janis murmurs, because she does. She’s calmed down enough to be aware it was a horrible miscommunication. Doesn’t make Stephanie’s choice of words hurt any less.

 

There’s a pause, then Stephanie offers her hand, and Janis takes it. They go to sit on the sofa again, Henry leaping up to lay between them.

 

“Making us fostering you about Regina wasn’t the right thing to say,” Stephanie begins slowly. “And…I want you to know that you’re here because we want you to be. Not to fix our daughter, but to help you. To give you a home. I simply spoke too long about Regina. That was not your burden to bear or even need to hear about, and I’m sorry for putting it on you and making you feel like your only purpose here is to make Regina a better person.”

 

She sounds sincere, and looks it, but every bone in Janis’s body is screaming at her to run, to get out of this house and not come back. _They’ll only hurt you again,_ her body says, _they’ll ruin you like all the others have, or make you ruin yourself._

 

 _But this time could be different,_ she shouts back at herself, so desperately longing for this time to be different.

 

For once, she doesn’t want to run.

 

“It hasn’t even been a week,” Stephanie continues. “But I’ve really loved getting to know you. I think you’re a lovely young lady, but both you and Regina are my responsibility.”

 

She takes Janis’s hand, very gently. Janis lets her.

 

“You are not here to make her better,” Stephanie insists again. “That’s my job as her mother. I have to find out what’s wrong with her, and fix it. And I’m trying to. All I meant was I hoped she would have some clarity upon meeting you. But that doesn’t make you less than, or mean you have to help me take care of her. I’m sorry I implied that was all you’re worth.”

 

Janis inhales nervously, unsure what to do or say. She feels better after hearing the apology—more than she thought she would—but she’s still apprehensive. Maybe this was a sign she got too comfortable too fast and needs to take it slow before fully trusting anyone. She has insight into Regina, but at the cost of her feeling secure.

 

She nods, though, so Stephanie knows she understands. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

 

Stephanie squeezes her hand and wipes tears away with the other. “Both me and Alex are so glad you’re here. We’ve wanted to foster for so long, and I’m so happy we got you. And I can’t predict the future, but I hope this lasts. For your sake. We want you here.”

 

Nobody’s ever told her that, never outright said they want her around. Most families made her feel like a nuisance, a heavy load. Their homes were like bus stops, she’d stay until she had to leave and go to another, or back to the group home.

 

“And I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Stephanie says quietly. “I’ll understand if you need time to yourself. I won’t push it. But I hope you do know how sorry I am. It won’t happen again.”

 

There’s not much else to say after that, so Janis nods again. She finds it in her damaged heart to give Stephanie a hug, wordlessly expressing her gratitude. Stephanie lets her go after that, and Janis returns to the solitude of her room.

 

* * *

 

Maybe it’s good that Janis didn’t go to Cady’s house, because now she’s questioning the past few days and wondering if it’d be best to not associate with anyone ever again.

 

Of course, that’s easier said than done, because Janis can’t just cut Cady and Damian out of her life. It’s been two days since they met, but it feels longer. They would be hurt and confused if she suddenly stopped replying to their texts and didn’t join them on Friday.

 

God. Friday. She’s hesitant but trying to think positive. Now she’s considering making up some lame excuse to get out of it. What she told Cady worked.

 

Janis sighs and reaches for her phone, going against her current thoughts as she taps into her Snapchat. Damian sent her one of him and his cat, a grumpy-looking calico he’s cheesing with as hearts float around his head. Janis grins and sends one back of herself with a warped face, so it matches the alien head on her shirt.

 

She gets her homework done in an hour, the soundtrack of a musical playing on her computer quietly. Damian recommended it to her, otherwise she wouldn’t give it a chance. She’s always found musical theater to be too over the top and obnoxious, with far too many happy endings. Real life isn’t like that. Real life fucking sucks. But maybe that’s why Broadway exists.

 

She completes her sketch of the golden retriever and signs her name at the bottom, practicing her signature for no reason. She flips to a blank page and taps her eraser against it for a bit as she wonders what she should draw next.

 

And then she’s sketching the outline of a girl, the stripes on her shirt, the buttons of her jacket, the soft candy curls tumbling past her shoulders. Janis is filling in the eyebrows when there’s a knock at her door, then Stephanie letting her know dinner is ready.

 

Janis leaves an unfinished Cady on the page to go join her, not thinking twice about it.

 

* * *

 

Regina comes home late. Janis is about to go to bed, stuffing the last cookie in her mouth, as Regina walks in through the front door and loudly announces her arrival.

 

“Regina, where have you been?” Stephanie demands, going from content to mad in a second.

 

“Karen’s,” Regina tells her, sounding annoyed and surprised she didn’t know that. She walks into the kitchen, wearing a completely different outfit. She’s clad in a neon pink spaghetti strap dress with four-inch heels on her feet. And she looks drunk.

 

“Doing _what_ at Karen’s?” Stephanie asks, hand on her hip. She herself looks different in her own sweats, makeup off, hair swept back messily. She and Janis have been eating cookies for twenty minutes, just talking.

 

Regina sways slightly, face pinched with confusion at the very simple question. “Just hanging out,” she says, then swallows a burp. Janis hides her smile behind her hand.

 

Like, not to be an asshole, but watching this unravel is making up for a _lot_ of crap.

 

Stephanie raises her now non-penciled eyebrows. “And drinking? With boys, I assume?”

 

“God, Mom, I’m not a whore,” Regina protests, and Janis cringes. She hates that word. “Karen totally is, though. There were a couple boys but they were hanging all over her and Gretch. I’m not getting _any_ action right now.” She rolls her eyes.

 

“What about Aaron?” Janis blurts, not meaning to insert herself but unable to resist.

 

The look Regina gives her rivals the one she wore on Janis’s first night after “welcoming” her. Stephanie glances between them—Janis, innocent, and Regina, scathing—then says, “Who’s Aaron?” and it takes everything in Janis not to start howling.

 

Regina’s been banging Aaron Samuels since this summer and her parents didn’t even know.

 

“He’s, uh—I know him,” Regina says evasively to her mother, tugging off her heels. “We’re, uh. Study partners. I see him around school.”

 

Janis snorts at _study partners._ Regina gives her another look.

 

“Do you study the human anatomy?” Janis asks, biting into another cookie.

 

She laughs when Stephanie playfully shoves her. She fully appreciates the growing redness of Regina’s face, and then the screwed-up expression she adopts upon seeing them interact.

 

“Okay, Regina, get upstairs,” Stephanie sighs, snapping her fingers. “Now. Go shower, I can smell the six different beers you consumed. How did you even get home? And is that a hickey?”

 

“I took an Uber. God, Mom,” Regina groans as she shuffles out of the room, taking her sweet time climbing the stairs. Janis is wholeheartedly amused listening to her bitch and moan all the way up there.

 

“Who’s Aaron?” Stephanie asks Janis then, hoping for a more truthful explanation.

 

“Her man candy,” Janis reveals shamelessly. “According to C—Damian, they’ve been together for a few months. Hooked up this summer or something.”

 

Stephanie leans a hand on the counter and shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. But then again I can, because it’s Regina. My God… Her father’s going to be pissed when he finds out.”

 

Janis hesitates, then inquires, “Any reason why you don’t want her to have a boyfriend?”

 

“It’s not that,” Stephanie sighs. “We would just like to know about it. Regina dating somebody but not bringing him home to us is suspicious.”

 

Janis isn’t necessarily surprised that was the route Regina took, but wonders why she felt the need to keep Aaron a secret from them. But there’s lots of things about Regina that Janis has yet to uncover. She has to remind herself Regina’s relationship with her parents is much more complex and different than Janis’s. And she is the way she is for a reason.

 

“She’s gonna kill me for telling you,” Janis admits quietly.

 

“No, she won’t,” Stephanie assures, rubbing her arm. “I’m glad you brought him up. I will deal with her tomorrow. Enough cookies, now, you’ll get sick.”

 

They say goodnight and Janis gingerly makes her way upstairs. Regina’s door is closed.

 

Janis briefly contemplates pressing her ear against it, then thinks better of it. She pads to her room, pointedly locking the door behind her.

 

Pissing Regina off twice in one day was not on Janis’s to-do list. Better safe than sorry.

 

* * *

 

Janis is tense the next morning as she waits for Regina to come downstairs. When she does, she fixes Janis with a look where all the fury boils in her eyes. Janis shivers.

 

“You girls be nice to each other,” Stephanie warns, handing Janis her lunch but winking at her specifically. Janis grins, Regina scoffs, and they head out.

 

“Sit in the back,” Regina orders when they get to her car.

 

Janis submissively obeys, genuinely afraid to get her shit rocked at seven AM.

 

“You’re a cunt,” Regina snaps as soon as they’re both seated. She angrily turns on the heat. “I cannot believe you fucking brought up Aaron.”

 

“I cannot believe you came home drunk and your mom didn’t beat your ass,” Janis counters. “I was prepared for the fuckin’ women’s WWE to break out in the kitchen.”

 

“I’ll beat _your_ ass if you don’t quit it,” Regina threatens, driving now. “You are so fucking dead, Sarkisian. And that little remark about human anatomy? Bet you felt so clever quoting a fucking _Stranger Things_ episode, didn’t you?”

 

“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.” Janis’s lips quirk. “And you’ve had Aaron on yours.”

 

Regina slams on the break right as the car drives out of the gates. She whips around to smack Janis with her purse, but Janis blocks the blow.

 

“Shut up!” Regina shrieks. “God. As if you’d know anything about that, you fucking dyke.”

 

“Right,” Janis says sarcastically. “I do know how handjobs work.”

 

Janis always gets so scared of Regina then is weirdly compelled to fight with her at the same time. Plus it’s always worth it just to see the look on her face.

 

“You’re gross,” Regina grumbles, and continues driving, which could be classified as a hazard now.

 

Janis chews her lip to keep from laughing. She is perfectly aware today could be the day this bitch snaps and buries her six feet under, but most of her doesn’t care. It’s funny now because Regina is seething, humiliated by Janis.

 

For someone who hates dykes so much, she’s really letting this one get under her skin.

 

She kicks Janis out at their usual spot, and Janis snickers to herself the rest of the way. She’s apparently not scared of Regina when she’s talking back to her.

 

Which could land her in massive trouble, but hey, whatever. Regina looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. Janis is pretty sure there won’t be any fallout, and has been open about her sexuality with the one person who hates it, because how can Regina bully Janis without a reason? She could spin some story, sure, but their actual issues are too specific. Regina can’t pick on Janis without exposing the awful truth.

 

Janis can handle being tripped while holding her lunch, or a drink poured over her head, or her locker being vandalized with slurs. Anything Regina wants to do publicly and in grave detail is not going to happen. She could just be harassing the dykey new girl, but should’ve done it by now if she felt that passionately about it. So she can just chase her tail in circles.

 

“What’s so funny?” Damian asks, sliding up to Janis at her locker.

 

“Chewed out my foster sis,” Janis tells him smugly. “She thinks she’s hot shit but I love knocking her down a peg. Or ten.”

 

“You’re my hero.” He gives her a high five, and they walk to homeroom together.

 

* * *

 

Lunchtime is when shit hits the fan, though it’s more entertaining than anything.

 

“Attention!” Regina’s high voice cuts through the crowd, and Janis turns to see Karen and Gretchen helping Regina stand on the table. At his table with his friends a few feet away, her boyfriend watches, comically confused.

 

“Oh boy,” Damian sighs, as Cady shrinks into herself nervously.

 

Regina claps and bellows for people’s attention again, so they all shut up to acknowledge her a lot slower than she probably would have liked. Once their eyes are on her, she smiles sweet and fake, never looking more like a Plastic than she does right now.

 

“So, I’m assuming you all know who Janis is,” she begins. Damian and Cady look frantically at Janis, who remains unbothered. “She’s right there, at that table with those other freaks. See?” She points, and everyone turns to look. “You all know those two. Cady and Damian. You know what makes them so special? They’re gay. Well, Hubbard is, I don’t know what Cady’s deal is. She’s half, I think. Her kind are a bit confused.”

 

That issues a rumble of agreeable laughter, and Janis stands up. Regina can talk shit all the livelong day about her, but Cady and Damian are off limits.

 

“Hold on, Janis, I’m not done,” Regina coos, holding up a finger. “Well, my point is, they’re gay. Makes you wonder why Janis sits with them. Oh, wait!” She gasps, hand over her heart. “Oh, I know why. Is there something you’d like to share with the caf, Janis? Or should I tell them?”

 

This bitch. She’s really doing this again.

 

Janis motions for her friends to move aside their lunches so she can stand up on their table. It is quite a view from up here, but now she’s eye level with Regina.

 

“Yeah, actually, there is something I wanna share,” she says calmly, clasping her hands.

 

Regina’s face. Janis wishes she could take a picture.

 

She smirks, just taking in Regina’s vaguely horrified expression. She revels in this feeling, all the fucking power she currently holds over her.

 

But she isn’t going to go that route, not wanting to emotionally distress Cady even more than Cady already has been in the last two minutes. Damian has his arm around her.

 

“I guess I’ll say it before you can,” Janis sighs, sounding bored. Because, really, this is boring. Regina is boring. She’s just proving every point Janis made in her speech yesterday morning. “Yes, North Shore, I am gay. I’m not sure if you could tell, given my conservative wardrobe and totally heterosexual haircut, but I’m a big ol’ lesbian. I’m the angry bitch dyke of all your fuckin’ nightmares. Yours specifically, Regina.”

 

There’s tentative laughter, but everybody’s watching her with wide eyes and open mouths. Not that she cares what people think. She’s never cared less. Her anxiety on Monday was utterly pointless—she’s owning up to her looks now, if it means shutting Regina down.

 

“Regina didn’t think I was gonna admit that, so now she has nothing to use against me,” Janis says, waving at a butchy looking freshman with admiring eyes. “Right, Regina? You overheard me say I’m a lesbian to somebody, and you were prepared to out me if I didn’t do it myself. But guess what! I don’t care. I’d rather people hear it from me. And they just did. And now you, your majesty,” and Janis bows dramatically, coaxing more laughter, “have nothing. So sit your skinny ass down, bitch. Nobody gives a fuck what you have to say.”

 

With that, she flips Regina off with both fingers, then takes her seat first.

 

There’s no sound for a solid twenty seconds. Regina swats Gretchen’s hands away and helps herself down, flopping onto the bench between her friends. Then someone starts clapping and it picks up from there, but Janis pays no mind to it.

 

Her friends are gaping, and people are clapping and hollering, and Janis kind of feels like she is in that teen coming of age movie Regina must’ve crawled out of.

 

“I think people knew anyway,” is all Janis says, stealing one of Damian’s fries. “So it’s not like she would’ve been exposing my dark secret.”

 

“You’re amazing,” Cady whispers, and Janis shrugs, but bumps her foot to Cady’s.

 

If she were to leave North Shore tomorrow, at least she can say she made history in her own way. She doubts anything like that has happened before. Not that she did it to make an impression on a bunch of people she couldn’t care less about, but to shut down their tyrannical leader before she kept running her sorry mouth.

 

“Not that that wasn’t awesome,” Damian says, “but now she might kill you.”

 

“Nah,” Janis replies confidently. The clapping has died down, but the buzzing is louder. People are staring in her direction. “You saw her face. She’s scared of me.”

 

“I think everyone is,” Damian hisses good-naturedly.

 

If that’s who Janis is going to be while she’s here, then so be it. If she becomes the new leader for putting Regina in her place, she can work with that.

 

She glances over at the Plastics, and Regina is gone. Then she spots her flouncing out of the cafeteria, Aaron getting up from his seat to follow her. Her friends look conflicted.

 

Karen Smith catches Janis’s eye and actually smiles. Janis jerks her chin in response, unsure what to make of that. Gretchen is furiously texting.

 

“And to think you were worried about people judging you,” Cady teases, poking Janis’s arm.

 

“Well, I was,” Janis protests, but grins. “And now I don’t really give a fuck.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  outing mention   
>  biphobia   
>  harassment

Janis ends up at Cady’s house after school, and subsequently has an anxiety attack over what occurred during lunch. It hits her, all of a sudden, that it actually happened.

 

“Oh my God,” she groans miserably, face in her hands. “Why did I do that? I should’ve just let her run her mouth. Oh my fucking God.”

 

“Janis, it’s okay,” Damian says, sitting next to her and putting his arms around her. He coaxes her closer so he’s effectively hugging her, and she pouts in his arms.

 

“What you did was brave,” Cady insists, in front of them on the ottoman. “She was going to out you, Janis. Somehow she found out, like you said, and was gonna tell everyone since she had no idea you’d tell them first. You took it back and now nobody’s gonna use it against you, least of all her. Being outed sucks, believe me.”

 

“Being forced to out yourself isn’t great, either,” Janis mumbles, heart thrumming with panic at the thought of what people might do or say tomorrow. The LGBT group will be excited about it, probably, but everyone else… As much as Janis trusted Cady when she said most people are indifferent to her sexuality, Janis is still nervous. She knows it was obvious she was gay, or not straight to some degree, but having no choice but to come out right then and there… Not how she wanted it to go nor did she want it to happen to begin with.

 

“Hey,” Cady murmurs, taking Janis’s hand. “We’re here for you. We won’t let anything happen to you. But I promise, Janis, people don’t give a shit. If they do, they’re a very small amount of people and they don’t matter. When I got outed, they initially gave me a hard time because I’m bi, and not a lot of people know much about that. But you… I think you’re gonna be okay.”

 

“You’re saying I have it easier?” Janis mumbles, pulling her hand away. First Stephanie makes her question everything, and now Cady?

 

“No,” Cady says, startled. “No. I just mean—y’know, bisexuality kinda gets lost in the shuffle at our school. But people know what it means when you say you’re a lesbian.”

 

“That still implies I have it easier,” Janis deadpans.

 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Cady argues, but Janis sits up, shaking her head.

 

“You know what, it’s fine,” she snaps. “Just—I don’t wanna talk about it. I hope Regina and her friends don’t etch slurs onto my locker. That’s what I’m worried about.”

 

“We’d handle it if that happened,” Damian says gently.

 

“I don’t think Regina will be harassing anyone for the time being,” Cady remarks, going to sit at the opposite end of the couch, away from Janis.

 

_Yeah, except for me, in her house,_ Janis thinks.

 

She stays close to Damian after that, comforted by the warmth of his body next to hers, knees overlapping. There is tension in the short distance between her and Cady, and as annoyed as she is at her comment, she wishes there wasn’t. Today was weird enough as it is.

 

She still gives her a hug at the door, though, wanting to bury her face in Cady’s curls one more time. Cady seems surprised, but not unhappy.

 

Damian drives Janis home again, and they’re quiet. Damian is a careful driver, especially with these icy roads. He doesn’t mention Cady, or Regina. But it isn’t tense in here like it was there; being with Damian seems to be the most solid thing in Janis’s life right now.

 

He parks at the gate again, but Janis doesn’t move. She strangely feels like crying, and looks at her gloved hands as something to focus on.

 

“Cady didn’t mean it like that,” Damian eventually says. “She definitely could have worded it better, I didn’t like how it sounded, either. And not to excuse it or to say that she does have it harder, but she’s been through a lot because of Regina. People did care in the beginning and it’s stuck with her. She’s proud of her sexuality but there’s times where she’s scared to be bi, or hates herself for it. But she shouldn’t have passed it onto you like that.”

 

Janis isn’t sure why she’s stupefied that he’s taking her side.

 

“I was one of her first friends after that whole fiasco,” Damian continues somberly. “Sonja brought her to our group. So she had support, but people still fucked with her head until it died down. And she… Well, she should be the one to tell you that. But it was hard at first. She didn’t know how to be out because it wasn’t supposed to happen then. She’d only realized she was bi that year. So here’s this fifteen-year-old girl trying to pick up the pieces of her life. And Regina didn’t care at all. She ruined her friend’s life, and still has no remorse.”

 

His voice grows bitter as he speaks, and Janis’s throat feels really tight.

 

“So,” he sighs, glancing out the window at the growing dusk. “She has unresolved stuff. And sometimes she takes it out on other people without meaning to. She’s still accepting that part of herself even if others don’t understand it.”

 

Janis nods. That makes sense. Truthfully, she wasn’t mad at Cady, just miffed. Nobody who’s not straight has it easy, at least not internally. And Cady did make a valid point, but it shouldn’t have implied Janis has it easier for being a lesbian. They can both suffer equally.

 

People are going to hate them their entire lives for being into girls no matter what. Janis being gay and Cady being bi isn’t a competition of who has it worse. Cady might like guys, too, but any part of a girl that isn’t entirely available to men is “wrong” and “unfair.” So she has more in common with Janis than not.

 

“I’ll text her later,” Janis tells Damian. “And I’m not just saying that.”

 

He grins. “I know. You need to make up, because you’re both pre-invited to my wedding.”

 

Janis laughs. “Oh, you’re still on that? Okay. Grool. Maybe I’ll pre-ask her to be my date.”

 

Damian lights up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, would you?” he gasps in all seriousness, grabbing her arm. “She’ll never make the first move, so that’s a good idea.”

 

Janis smiles and kisses him on the cheek. “You entertain me, Damian Hubbard,” she says as she climbs out of his car. “Get home safe, weirdo.”

 

He blows her a kiss and she rubs it all over her cheek. He finds that very funny.

 

“Hey,” he calls after her, and she turns back. “You should be proud of what you did today. You can feel however you want about it, but it was awesome.”

 

Yeah. Maybe it kinda was.

 

* * *

 

Janis does her homework at the kitchen counter while Stephanie makes dinner. Janis’s phone, currently blasting a Christmas playlist per Stephanie’s request, dings with a text.

 

 

Janis puts her pencil down and quiets the music before replying.

 

 

She does it unthinkingly, but it’s the first time Janis has called her _Caddy._ It feels right.

 

 

And that’s the first time Cady says she loves Janis. Reading that feels right, too.

 

* * *

 

Of course, the post-forced coming out bliss doesn’t last for very long, because Regina busts in to Janis’s room when she’s supposed to be going to bed.

 

“Hey, get out,” Janis yells defensively.

 

“No,” Regina snaps, shutting the door. “We’re gonna talk. That stunt you pulled—”

 

“The stunt _I_ pulled?!” Janis retorts, rising to her feet. She’s never been happier to be five foot nine, because Regina flinches as she gets closer. “You’re the one who got up on the table and starting blabbing first, I was just playing along. And that stuff you said about Cady? Not fuckin’ cool, man. Do you have any idea what you did to her? How badly you messed up her life?”

 

“It’s her own damn fault,” Regina growls, crossing her arms. “She should have kept her creepy little secret to herself. Bet you love being friends.”

 

“I do, actually,” Janis says icily. “She’s a good person, no thanks to you. She could’ve shut out everybody after that, but she didn’t. Still not helpful that you treated her like shit.”

 

“Please, quit acting like she’s traumatized,” Regina scoffs, rolling her eyes. “If she wants to be a victim so badly, she should take a look at your life. What happened to your parents? Do you even know? Or have you been shuffled around so much by people who don’t want you that it doesn’t really matter anymore?”

 

Regina has barely finished speaking when there’s a loud smack, and she shrieks, hand flying to her cheek. Janis’s fingers tingle from how hard she slapped her.

 

“You’re evil,” she breathes, a dull rage boiling in her belly. “I’ve met a lot of awful people in my life, most of them being literal adults, but you are on a whole other level of psychotic. You are so twisted and insecure that you think bullying others makes you better.”

 

She moves as she speaks, walking Regina backward across the room. “And to think that I was actually afraid of you when I first got here,” she admits. “But now I see how pathetic and weak you are. You rely on other people’s pain to boost yourself up. I don’t fucking care how you got to be this way, but you’re a sick person. I’ve been through literal hell, I have seen the absolute worst in people. But I still try to be good because I don’t want to become like them.”

 

Regina’s back is to the wall now, still startled from being hit. Janis stays a foot away, refusing to get too close to her in case she retaliates.

 

“I’m sure there’s some awful thing that made you like this,” Janis says helplessly. “But trauma or mental illness or whatever is not an excuse to do bad things and treat people the way you do. You get some sort of gross pleasure out of tearing other people down, and I don’t get it at all. You’re not a good person, Regina. And tormenting me and bullying Cady and anyone you think is inferior to you, is not how you should be living your life. You keep a lot of shit from your mom and dad, but they’d be horrified if they knew what you get up to.”

 

She pauses to catch her breath, looking at Regina, who’s just as shocked to hear this as she was in the car the other day. It bears repeating, and Janis really doesn’t care anymore.

 

“You’re no better than I am,” Regina ultimately whispers, and her cheek is still pink. “You see all this happening and haven’t told anyone. If you hate me so much and think I’m so awful, I’d like to see you do something about it. But you can’t, because the moment you rat me out, my parents will take my side and send you back for being a lying little snitch. I am their daughter, they love me. They owe you jack shit.”

 

Now Janis is rooted in place. Regina might be a huge gaping asshole, but she’s right.

 

“You don’t belong here,” Regina hisses, jabbing a finger at Janis’s chest. “You know it. I know it. My parents probably know it, deep down. Your ass will be gone before Christmas. And in that time you aren’t gonna do anything about me, because you want to delay the inevitable. I don’t really care if you think I’m a bad person. We’ve established that.”

 

Janis’s eyes are burning. She wants to hit her again, harder.

 

“So enjoy letting things slide,” Regina says, reaching for the door. “Enjoy being with your weird friends while it lasts. I’m celebrating when you finally leave.”

 

She slams the door behind her. Janis stares at the wall for a long time, brain running in circles as she tries to comprehend what just happened.

 

Janis can never win with her. But maybe she’s not supposed to win—Regina has to concede. Though it’ll be a cold day in hell when Regina finally admits wrongdoing on all fronts.

 

Until then, Janis knows she should stay out of her way. If Regina won’t listen or have a come to Jesus moment, Janis is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Obviously she wants her to stop trampling people, but what _if_ Regina’s parents take her side? Janis can’t just move in and tell them their daughter needs an intervention.

 

They’d kick her out for sure. Janis goes back to her desk, rubbing her temples. Fuck Regina for using Janis’s biggest fear against her, but it’s not so far-fetched to think the Georges could refuse to listen just as much as she does. Stephanie made it clear she knows Regina has issues, but she wouldn’t believe Janis if Janis told her what Regina has done just this week.

 

Chin in hand, Janis flips to the work in progress she started the other night. She sharpens her pencil, then loses herself in Cady once more.

 

* * *

 

Janis is understandably in a bad mood all of Friday, a dark cloud passing through the halls of North Shore. People stare significantly more than they did before, but no one comes up to her. Damian and Cady give her space, figuring she needs time to herself.

 

When the bell rings, she’s feeling better than she did this morning, but now is tentative to meet the group if she’s still not feeling like herself.

 

“You can come next Friday, then,” Cady tells her gently. “If you’re not up for it. I mean, I don’t think anyone will wonder why. It could be a number of reasons. But you don’t have to go.”

 

“But Taylor brought cupcakes,” Damian murmurs sadly, and she punches him on the arm.

 

“Taylor?” Janis asks, but genuinely is intrigued at the mention of sweets.

 

“Wedell,” Cady replies. “She’s, uh, in the figuring-it-out stage. She’s super sweet. Very chatty. She likes to bake, her stuff’s actually pretty good.”

 

Damian whines and rubs his stomach. “We have to go before Christian eats them all.”

 

“I’ll come,” Janis says nervously, and her friends’ faces light up.

 

“Okay, well, if you wanna leave, you can,” Cady assures her, linking their elbows.

 

Janis holds her breath until they get to the auditorium. Damian opens the door and sweeps his arm grandly, and the girls enter before him. A group of teens are messing around inside, some on the stage, some in the seats. Janis spots a table with a platter of cupcakes on it, half-eaten already. Damian beelines right for it, high-fiving people when he passes.

 

“Biiitch!” Sonja’s unmistakable voice bellows, and Janis jumps. Sonja rushes to greet her and Cady, looking overjoyed. “You came!”

 

“Yeah,” Janis says, jostling her hand inside her jacket sleeve anxiously.

 

“Wedell brought cupcakes if ya want any,” Sonja informs them both. “Aaand there is a cooler with drinks around here somewhere. Ya got here just in time, we’re gonna watch Vines.”

 

“Oh, Jesus,” Cady huffs, and Janis snickers.

 

“Sarkisian, c’mon, lemme introduce you.” And then Sonja is grabbing Janis’s wrist and tugging her over to the people in the seats, Cady following so Sonja doesn’t go overboard.

 

Janis meets everybody, and blushes when a hot girl in a snapback kisses her hand. The kids on the stage shout their hellos. Taylor Wedell shyly offers her a cupcake.

 

“Oh, these are good,” Janis says after one bite, and she giggles.

 

Cady, licking the frosting off hers, nudges her. “Told you.”

 

Janis nudges her back, just for good measure.

 

Janis integrates herself into the group rather quickly, and it’s easy because everyone is just so _chill._ They’re all there for the same reason, and don’t rush to get up in each other’s business—there’s respect for one another that the rest of the school lacks for them.

 

“Where you from, Sarkisian?” Christian Wiggins asks, tossing her a Gatorade.

 

“Uh—Naperville,” Janis admits honestly.

 

“Why’d you move here?” someone else asks. Cady’s watching her carefully.

 

“My, uh… Dad got a job transfer,” Janis says, the lie slipping out before she can stop it. “He’s a lawyer. So he works at a new firm here.”

 

One of her old foster dads was a lawyer. So, it’s a lie plucked from the truth.

 

But it doesn’t sit right with Janis, even though it couldn’t hurt to let them think that. These kids do not care either way. Janis glances around, more anxious now after lying than she was prior, and remembers she doesn’t have to pretend or act different here.

 

“Actually, no,” she says, shaking her head. “No, my dad’s… Well, I don’t have a dad. Sorry. I’m a… Well, I moved here because I’m a foster kid, and I got a new placement.”

 

In her peripheral, she sees Cady smiling.

 

“Really?” Taylor Wedell chirps, and Janis lifts her head. “Aw, me too! I mean, I was a foster but I got adopted last year. Not to, like, rub it in or anything, but yeah.”

 

Janis quickly shakes her head; on the contrary, her heart literally just soared. “That’s awesome,” she tells her, and the blonde makes a cute face. “You happy with them?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Taylor says, nodding. “Very happy. My mom actually taught me how to bake. She helped make the cupcakes. I brought them here for you, by the way.”

 

Janis looks at her, delicately surprised. “You made these for me?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Taylor chirps with a shrug. “You’re new. Sonja’s been talking about you nonstop, so I figured it’d be a nice welcome thing.”

 

“No, yeah, it is,” Janis says quickly, trying very hard not to cry. “Thanks, Taylor. They’re delish.”

 

Taylor gives her a hug, which Janis happily accepts. She sees Cady and Damian sharing this mushy look and it’s only funny because Damian has icing all over his chin.

 

For the next couple hours, Janis has the most fun doing absolutely nothing. They watch Vines, someone pulls out a bag of candy, Taylor hugs Janis multiple times out of sheer joy, and Janis cheers Damian on as he catches Goldfish in his mouth.

 

At some point, Sonja sidles up to Janis, who’s just sitting and watching everybody. “We aren’t gonna make a big deal out of it,” Sonja murmurs, “but we all think what you did is pretty dope. I mean, I’ve never seen anyone go up against Regina like that, let alone come out.”

 

Janis shrugs. “Yeah, she’s a bit of a nut.”

 

Sonja laughs. “Well, we think you’re cool. I’m glad you came.”

 

“Thanks, Sonja,” Janis sighs. “Me too. This is fun. I’ve never been around so many…gays before.”

 

“Our energy is unparalleled,” Sonja jokes, then leaves Janis be.

 

Janis exhales, and can feel it in every part of her body. A week ago this time she was moving in, unsure what to expect, hoping to find her people. Today she finally has.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay! i didn’t have internet during my scheduled posting time, but we’re back!
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  cheating mention   
>  harassment   
>  homophobia

For the next two and a half weeks, nothing particularly gruesome occurs in regards to Regina and Janis’s tumultuous relationship. They go to school, keep their distance, and stay out of the other’s way. Regina evidently has nothing more to say to Janis, probably not bothering to bully her under the assumption Janis will be gone soon.

 

Janis tries not to let that get under her skin, but every day she wakes up wondering if today is the day it all ends. Snap of the fingers, just like that. Sharon takes her back to the group home and Janis cuts off all contact with her friends, too pained to salvage her relationships.

 

She kind of hates herself for getting attached to them, as fun as they are. A week after her first visit with the LGBT club, and the last Friday before Thanksgiving break, Janis comes to school with her head down, a storm brewing inside.

 

She’s mad for no particular reason; Regina drove her as usual but nothing happened. They’re ignoring each other to the fullest extent but Janis is still frustrated, and now paranoid it’s about to crash down around her. She had a dream Regina stole her clothes during gym and then set Janis on fire, so on top of being the personification of a storm cloud, Janis is rather jumpy.

 

It’s so obvious that Damian takes a seat several feet away during homeroom, and Janis skips science completely, finding refuge in the back of the library for an hour. She puts her music on, drowning the silence with her earbuds, and continues her sketch of Damian. She finished the one of Cady last weekend, and decided to get a tentative head start on Christmas gifts. It’ll be turned into a watercolor once it’s done.

 

Over her music, she hears a nearby hum of voices, and removes one earbud to make sure it’s not a teacher. To her combined surprise and dismay, it’s just Gretchen and Karen, which would make her laugh if she didn’t want them to hear her. She turns around in her chair, following the hushed lilt of their voices, and can see the back of Karen’s blonde head, the rest of her hidden by a shelf. Janis pauses her music and collects her things, needing to stay invisible.

 

“She’s just in a really bad spot right now, Kare,” Gretchen is saying forlornly.

 

“Yeah,” Karen sighs, but doesn’t seem too concerned.

 

“She’s acting out and it’s gonna bite her in the ass,” Gretchen hisses. “I mean, I warned her to not get involved with Shane, but she wouldn’t listen. She can’t even say it’s a rebound if she’s still with Aaron! He’d be crushed if he found out. He really loves her.”

 

“We should tell him,” Karen murmurs. “I’d wanna know if I was being cheated on.”

 

A pause, then Gretchen says incredulously, “Karen, you always get cheated on and don’t care one bit. Just last month, that guy Casey cheated.”

 

“Yeah, but he gave good head,” Karen protests, and Janis makes a face.

 

Gretchen sighs, very heavily, like they’ve had similar conversations before. “Whatever. And we are _not_ telling Aaron. Our loyalty lies with Regina, not him. This is their deal.”

 

“But it’s our deal by proxy—” Karen starts to say.

 

“Proxy?” Gretchen repeats, mystified. “How do you even know what that means?”

 

“I hooked up with an English major at a party last Saturday.”

 

“Oh my God…” Gretchen moans, and Janis quickly ducks behind another shelf as they leave. She watches them until they disappear out the front of the library.

 

Once she’s alone, she still covers her mouth when she begins laughing, leaning against a wall of books to steady herself.

 

She’s wiping tears from her eyes when the bell rings, and her mood is significantly brightened. She rushes out to find her friends, heart thrumming with anticipation. She finds them at Cady’s locker, and both she and Damian watch hesitantly as Janis barrels closer.

 

“Guys, guys, guys,” she pants, actually out of breath. “Come with me, I have something.”

 

“Are you okay?” Cady immediately asks, shutting her locker.

 

“Fine,” Janis insists. “Stairwell, now. Come on, come on.”

 

Once they’re cornered on the stairs, huddled together to let people pass, Janis gushes, “I was in the library and I overheard Gretchen and Karen talking. Regina’s cheating on Aaron.”

 

 _“What?”_ her friends say simultaneously, but their faces differ: Damian looks highly amused but Cady seems prematurely devastated for Aaron.

 

“Yeah,” Janis confirms, nodding. “With that quarterback, Shane Oman.”

 

Cady inhales and a hand claps over her mouth. Damian is shaking with laughter. “Oh my God, Janis,” he cackles, and she punches him so he quiets down. “Oh my _God._ ”

 

“Poor Aaron,” Cady whispers, failing to see the humor.

 

It really doesn’t surprise Janis that Regina would do this. She wants to confront her about it, just to see what she’ll do or say, but that’s risky.

 

“Do you think maybe we should…tell him?” Cady suggests awkwardly.

 

Damian shakes his head, but Janis doesn’t necessarily think it’s a _bad_ idea. “Well, he’d go to Regina about it after,” she muses, breaking it down in her head. “And then she’d ask who told him, and if he says us, she’ll know I had something to do with it, so we’d all be screwed.”

 

Cady pouts. “But we have to do something.”

 

“ _We_ don’t have to do anything,” Damian says, waving his hands in circles for emphasis. “I am not telling Aaron Samuels his girl is stepping out on him.”

 

“We can’t let her get away with this,” Cady argues in a low voice. “He needs to know.”

 

“What he doesn’t know surely won’t kill him.”

 

“Why would he believe us, anyway?” Janis points out. “I mean, really.”

 

“Because—” Cady starts to say, then cuts herself off, face pinched adorably with thought. She doesn’t know Aaron—sitting behind him in calculus doesn’t qualify her to say he’d believe them. He’d more than likely take Regina’s side.

 

They’re each late to class so they agree to talk more about it at lunch. On her way to her next class, Janis spots Regina through the window in a door, and she’s watching the teacher with a bored expression. Janis snickers, wondering how bored she’d be if her life fell apart first.

 

* * *

 

“He’s right over there,” Cady pouts. “I could go ask if he can talk.”

 

“With Regina seeing you? Honey.” Damian rolls his eyes.

 

Cady deflates, but the worry in her face only seems to deepen. Aaron is innocently talking with his friends, completely oblivious that his girlfriend is banging another senior.

 

“What are our options?” Cady says, and Janis is beginning to regret telling them anything. She didn’t think Cady would take it so seriously.

 

“We don’t _have_ options,” Damian tells her, aggressively scooping out his Jell-O. “I do not want to be mauled by a vicious, vengeful white girl for revealing her dark, slutty secret.”

 

Janis snorts, but Cady doesn’t think it’s funny.

 

“Maybe if we got Gretchen to inadvertently spill the beans,” she says slowly, glancing over at the Plastics now. “Like, lowkey coerce her into saying it.”

 

“Oh, and we get it on audio,” Janis suggests. “And then we have him listen to it.”

 

“No, no, no!” Damian huffs. “Ladies, _no._ None of us are getting involved.”

 

Except Janis is now splicing her idea and Cady’s together, and instead of Gretchen, she could possibly get Regina’s admission on tape. Maybe not a direct confession—say Janis overheard her on the phone with Shane, or even just screenshotted their texts somehow.

 

But there’s no way she could provide that evidence to her friends or Aaron without telling them she lives with Regina. She’s not ready to deal with that.

 

She’s torn between wanting to do something and embrace the fallout later and take Damian’s wise advice and not mess with it at all.

 

She genuinely feels bad for Aaron, and knows Regina’s parents won’t be pleased to hear this. After it was revealed Regina had a boyfriend, her parents sat down with her and had a chat—it must’ve been sufficiently awkward, but Janis was at Cady’s when it happened. She also made a point to not be there when Aaron came over for dinner a few days ago to meet them.

 

Janis wonders what he knows, if Stephanie brought her up at all, mentioning her in passing. It makes her feel weird, not knowing what he knows. If he does know, Regina more than likely is making him keep it a secret. But he also could not know. And now Janis knows his girlfriend is a cheat and a liar. But he doesn’t know that. And Regina doesn’t know Janis knows.

 

Janis will sit on this for now. She’s not sure what to do, but she could use it later. Once Regina inevitably starts her anti-Janis bullshit again, perhaps Janis can pull this out to make her stop. If she’s learned anything about Regina, it’s she’s just as easy to manipulate as the people she steps on. Janis has insight to her life.

 

Janis might not want to inform any nearby adults about what Regina is doing to people, but if she makes her break on her own, she won’t ever have to.

 

* * *

 

Barely ten minutes into this week’s group visit, and trouble walks in.

 

“Aw, look at this,” Regina croons, and Janis’s stomach clenches.

 

“Get out,” she roars, rising to her feet and meeting the Plastics halfway to put herself between them and her friends. “Get the _fuck_ out.”

 

Regina feigns shock at her attitude. “Goodness, Janis, that’s not very welcoming.”

 

“Are those brownies?” Karen pipes up, eyeing the snack table. Gretchen shushes her.

 

“Get out,” Janis says again, fixing Regina with the scariest look she can muster. She put on an extra layer of liner today, so she’s aware of how demonic her eyes are.

 

“We just wanted to see what goes on here,” Regina explains, and Gretchen nods. “Just to see how a bunch of gays thrive in the wild.”

 

“How’d you even know about this?” Janis demands, motioning for Cady to sit down. Cady had begun to walk over but she’s not risking her getting caught in the middle.

 

Regina sniffs. “It’s not exactly a secret the North Shore gay population has their own club. Sort of exclusionary, don’t you think? Why can’t we join?”

 

“Because you’re exactly the type of people we have to protect ourselves from,” Janis snarls. “It exists because we need spaces to ourselves that don’t have your straight asses in them.”

 

She’s shaking with a raw, helpless anger that has been carried through generations of people who came before her, unrelated by blood but connected by the one thing that separates them from the rest of society, a never-ending _us vs them_ situation.

 

And Regina’s very presence here is a threat.

 

“So I’ll say it again, nicely,” Janis says, softer now, and that somehow makes her sound more dangerous. She feels it, too, the anger deep in her bones. “Get the hell out.”

 

Gretchen steps back, intimidated, and pulls Karen with her. But they won’t leave until Regina does; where she goes, they go. Who she torments, they torment.

 

When Regina doesn’t speak, or make a move to do as Janis says, Janis takes a step closer. It doesn’t scare her anymore, being this close. “Get out or I tell them what you’ve been doing. Or who you’ve been doing, I should say,” she hisses.

 

Regina adopts that classic startled expression, and Gretchen and Karen look at each other.

 

Janis smiles without it being a smile. “So get out. Unless you want Aaron to know, too.”

 

Regina slowly turns to glare at her friends, who shrink under her gaze, then exhales out of her nose like a dragon and storms out of the auditorium. Gretchen hurries to follow.

 

“Can I have a brownie before I go?” Karen hangs back to ask, and Janis wordlessly points to the door so she takes the hint and leaves.

 

The door closes and for a long time there’s no sound. No movement, not even a breath. Janis is still as a statue, trying to calm down before she goes off on someone else.

 

Then the voices pick up again, dull and muted, and there’s a press of a hand on Janis’s back. She tenses automatically, looking up at the ceiling so Cady won’t see she’s crying. Cady tugs on her sleeve, like a child silently asking for the attention of their parent, and Janis lets her sit her down in a seat. Her head feels heavy, body numb.

 

“She’s gone,” Cady says, kneeling in front of her. “You scared the big bad bitch away.”

 

Janis is afraid to glance at everyone’s faces, so she stares at her kneecaps. “I hate her,” she ultimately whispers, her voice barely above a rasp. “I wish she’d get hit by a car.”

 

“Or a bus,” Cady snickers. “A bus would do more damage.”

 

Janis grins a little, enjoying that mental picture.

 

Cady rubs her arm. “It’s okay. I’ll just say what we’re all thinking: that was really fucking badass and never in a million years could I do that.”

 

“Yeah, you could,” Janis murmurs, soothed by the blue of Cady’s eyes.

 

Cady lifts a shoulder. “Maybe if you were there,” she sighs, and Janis smiles a little.

 

“What did you say to her?” Taylor breathes as she approaches to offer Janis a brownie.

 

Janis takes it, leaning back in her seat. “Told her to leave unless she wanted me to tell you all she’s cheating on her boyfriend,” she says sullenly.

 

Taylor gasps, and looks at Cady. “ _No._ ”

 

Arms folded, Cady shrugs. “Yep. Don’t mention that to the others, though, we’re trying to figure out a…quiet way to deal with it.”

 

Taylor nods her understanding. “Can I say I’m not surprised?”

 

Janis laughs once around a mouthful of brownie. “Nothing Regina does is a surprise.”

 

* * *

 

Except when Regina drives up to Janis as she’s walking home. That catches Janis off-guard.

 

“I can’t believe you!” Regina hollers out the window. “Who told you?”

 

“Who do you think, dumbass?” Janis retorts, and Regina’s shiny red Lexus slows to a crawl. “I was in the library and overheard Gretchen talking to Karen.”

 

Regina makes an appalled noise. “I didn’t think those two even knew where the library _was._ ”

 

“You and me both,” Janis says sarcastically. “For the record, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was trying to protect my friends. What you did sucked, Regina. Everyone was really scared. You’re not allowed to just waltz into a safe space—”

 

“Oh, you freaks and your ‘safe spaces,’” Regina scoffs, making air quotes. “Gimme a fucking break. I wasn’t gonna burn down the auditorium.”

 

“Well, none of us knew that. We definitely wouldn’t put it past you.”

 

“I think you’re more likely to commit arson than I am. You’re the troubled orphan.”

 

“And you’re what, exactly?” Janis says, stopping the same moment Regina does. “You might have parents, but you’re just as troubled if not more than I am. Normal people don’t do the shit you do. Normal people don’t cheat on their partners and terrorize gay kids.”

 

Regina gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Janis has no discernable reaction to Regina being close to her again. “I didn’t terrorize anybody.”

 

Janis raises her eyebrows. “Really? Then what would you call walking your straight ass into a gay club? You weren’t there to be an ally.”

 

Regina presses her lips together. “I might think you’re all a bunch of weirdos, but we were not there to hurt you. Yeah, I admit, we wanted to threaten you a little. It was funny.”

 

“Until I chewed you up and spit you out,” Janis reminds her venomously. “Remember that I’ve got shit on you. I can tell everyone, not just Aaron, that you’re a lying skank. And that I’m your foster sister. I already humiliated you when I came out. Bet you’re so upset you can’t use that against me now. And trying to out me? Really? That was pathetic. But we’ve been over this so many times. You are pathetic, and you know it, and it kills you.”

 

For a brief moment Regina actually looks hurt by the reminder. Then she screws up her plastic face—Janis’s favorite expression—and lifts her chin. “All that might be true, but I could still say whatever the hell I wanted about you. You can’t prove anything just like I couldn’t. But that isn’t the point. People are gonna believe whatever the fuck they wanna believe. Go ahead and spill all my secrets, Janis, I’ll just make up yours.”

 

“You think I can’t prove it?” Janis taunts, intrigued. She leans closer. “Try me.”

 

She turns away and continues walking, her body pulsing with adrenaline. Regina eventually gets back in her car and revs the engine as she passes for good measure.

 

Regina doesn’t go home, because her car isn’t in the driveway. Janis is relieved, mostly to still avoid Stephanie finding out she has been walking home. She tells her Regina either drops her off then leaves again, or Damian gives her a ride.

 

The house smells like gingerbread when Janis walks in, and she bends down to scoop up little Henry, who greets her with kisses. He’s wearing a sweater with a Christmas tree on it.

 

Stephanie is in the kitchen, and lights up when Janis walks in. “Oh, hi! Aw, Henry. You missed Janis, huh?” she coos, and Janis kisses the dog’s head.

 

“Isn’t it a bit early to make gingerbread men?” she asks, eyeing the cookies already made.

 

“Oh, these are for a faculty party at Alex’s work later,” Stephanie informs her, and she nods. “I don’t know why they’re having a Christmas party so soon, it’s not even Thanksgiving.”

 

Still holding Henry, Janis swipes frosting onto her fingertip and pops it into her mouth. “I’ll help you deliver ’em later, if you want,” she offers.

 

“Oh, would you? That’d be a huge help. Thank you, honey.”

 

“Sure. ’Kay, I’m gonna do homework. I’m taking Henry with me. Bye.”

 

Stephanie laughs. “Bye, sweetie, thank you.”

 

Humming _Jingle Bell Rock,_ Janis goes upstairs, putting Henry down. She pauses to look in the direction of Regina’s room, weighing her options. It couldn’t hurt to poke around—Stephanie is occupied. If she came up and asked, Janis could say Regina borrowed something.

 

“Come on, Toto,” Janis jokes, and Henry obliviously follows her. Janis opens the door with her foot, since it’s the doorway to hell, and goes inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (did anyone catch that medicine reference? hehe)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  eating disorder   
>  child death mention   
>  trauma mention

Henry trots into Regina’s room, none the wiser that it’s a demon’s lair. Janis can sense the bad vibes all around her, and she shivers.

 

Not wanting to waste too much time, she goes looking in the obvious places, unsure what it is she’s trying to find. She checks drawers, under the bed, the vanity, shelves. Janis won’t bother with the closet, afraid she’ll get lost in there or eaten by a three-headed monster.

 

She’s about to give up when something glints under one of the decor pillows on Regina’s bed. Janis approaches it and reaches under it, pulling out a hardcover journal with a lock on it. The mini lock is silver and in the shape of a heart.

 

Unperturbed by it, Janis tosses her backpack on the bed so she can rifle through it. She finds a paperclip at the very bottom and uses it to pick the lock on the book. She opens it tentatively since she’s kind of scared it’ll come alive and eat her face or something.

 

It doesn’t, and the inside cover has Regina’s name scrawled in it. Janis thumbs through it, now determined to uncover some vital piece of information. As she gets closer to the middle, there are less words, ultimately replaced by charts of some sort on each page. Regina lists different kinds of food with the date at the top, with numbers and calculations next to them. And then at the bottom of the page she jots down her weight.

 

The latest entry, just from last night, says Regina is one hundred and four pounds.

 

Holy shit. Janis feels like her stomach just dropped out of her ass. As much as she hates this girl, she’s genuinely disturbed. Regina is keeping track of what she eats and how much she weighs by the end of the day.

 

Janis closes the diary, finding the key under the lamp on Regina’s nightstand. She locks it and slips it back under the pillow, grabbing her bag before hastily exiting the room, whistling for the little dog to follow. Janis shuts the door, leaving it ajar like it was prior to entering, and heads to her room. She feels weightless, ironically enough, like someone emptied her whole body.

 

Regina exiting the bathroom that one day makes perfect sense now.

 

Honestly, Janis had briefly wondered, for two seconds, if Regina was pregnant. This is worse, by a lot. Telling by the number of entries, it’s been going on for several months, if not longer.

 

A girl Janis used to live at the group home with had an eating disorder. She made herself vomit as a coping mechanism, and she got so skinny she went to the hospital and didn’t come back. Janis was around eight when that happened.

 

Regina is thin, but not so thin it’d raise eyebrows, so Janis wonders if there’s different types of whatever it is she’s going through. Admittedly Janis knows very little about eating disorders so she isn’t going to make assumptions. It just doesn’t _seem_ like Regina’s starving herself.

 

But Janis can’t know anything unless she asks, and she definitely won’t be doing that. Regina would flip if she knew Janis read her diary.

 

Given the nature of what she found out, Janis feels hypocritical for always being afraid Regina would do something to her stuff. Janis isn’t hiding anything, though.

 

Janis has been at her desk looking out her window for ten minutes now, trying to compute this. She still doesn’t like Regina and thinks she’s a bitch, but Regina’s insecurities evidently run so much deeper than Janis originally thought.

 

If Janis was going to tell Regina’s parents anything, it should be this. But then that would entail revealing she was snooping around Regina’s room for completely unrelated reasons.

 

Janis sighs and opens her computer to put on her study playlist, and tries her best to not think or even care about Regina for the next hour.

 

* * *

 

Around six, Janis helps Stephanie put the cookies in containers and bring them out to the car. Regina still isn’t home by then, though that’s hardly surprising.

 

She’s probably somewhere sucking off Shane Oman. Janis tries not to laugh.

 

Alexander is the CEO of some local car insurance company, and Janis gulps when Stephanie parks upfront, the building tall and intimidating.

 

“Will I have to meet people?” Janis asks nervously. “Like, make small talk?”

 

Stephanie laughs. “No, we’ll only be there for a few minutes.”

 

And so Janis keeps her word and helps Stephanie bring the cookies inside, heart beginning to pound. If she has to strike up a conversation with some old guy, she’ll stab herself with the nearest pencil.

 

Alex is thrilled to see them, particularly Janis, who he didn’t know was coming. He gives her a sideways squeeze and she doesn’t mind at all.

 

Janis waves shyly when he points out people, careful not to make eye contact or smile too big. She kind of regrets offering to help, only because she’s so out of her comfort zone. Grown-ups in large groups make her knees shake.

 

She’s relieved when she and Stephanie actually say goodbye after five minutes. She leans on the elevator wall with her tongue hanging out and Stephanie laughs.

 

“You did good. Thank you for coming,” she tells her, poking her in the stomach.

 

Janis grins with a shrug. “No problem. I wanted to ask where he worked but I thought that’d be weird,” she admits, scratching her neck. “Sorry if it’s rude that I never did.”

 

“Oh, honey, no,” Stephanie assures as they reach the first floor. “Not at all. But you can ask us anything, anytime. You know that, right?”

 

Janis nods, instinctively taking her hand when they exit the building. She doesn’t reply, but her companion gets it. That’s what Janis loves about Stephanie: she doesn’t push it.

 

Janis is hit by a sudden wave of guilt upon remembering Regina’s secret, guilt for not instantly going to Stephanie with the truth. Now is as good of a time as any.

 

She doesn’t know how to phrase it without implicating herself. She could start by mentioning she once spotted Regina leaving the restroom and is now concerned there’s something going on. Janis isn’t _actually_ concerned, just morally conflicted.

 

Plus she knows this isn’t something she can mess with. Not even in regards to Regina.

 

“You okay?” Stephanie asks, turning the heat back on.

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Janis buckles her seatbelt and pointedly looks out the windshield, trying not to look tense. She doesn’t do a good job.

 

“Something bothering you?” Stephanie inquires gently, backing out of her spot.

 

Janis doesn’t reply, chewing her lip as she fusses with her gloves. She’s not sure what makes her do it, but she takes a leap of faith to ask, “When did Regina start acting different?”

 

Stephanie seems taken aback, but not offended by the question. She thinks about it, carefully driving out of the parking lot to the road. “A few years ago,” she eventually says, and her voice is quiet with remembrance. “I don’t think you know this, but Alex is my second husband.” Janis raises her eyebrows, and Stephanie nods. “Yeah.”

 

The older woman shifts in her seat, tapping a nail against the steering wheel. “Regina’s father and I divorced when she was eleven,” she continues somberly. “I married Alex a couple years later. My ex was a piece of work near the end, and we decided it’d be best for us and Regina if we went our separate ways. It was, and it lead me to Alex. He’s a better man to me and a better father to Regina. There was just something missing before, but he filled that spot.”

 

Okay, so, daddy issues. Not with Alex, but with Regina’s birth father. He evidently wasn’t what Regina or her mother needed anymore.

 

“Regina took it hard, though,” Stephanie murmurs. “She was so young, she didn’t understand why we couldn’t work through our problems. She didn’t realize that the problem was him. I did everything to make it work, but he just…resisted everything I tried.”

 

“You went to therapy and all that shit?” Janis asks.

 

Stephanie laughs darkly. “Oh, yeah. All that jazz. But you can’t force yourself to stay in love—I learned that the hard way. And my daughter suffered as a result. I’m glad I found Alex so fast, because he got to show her what a real father should be like. But I think my ex and the divorce already took its toll on her. She hasn’t been the same.”

 

There’s a loaded silence prior to Janis saying, “What did she used to be like?”

 

Now Stephanie smiles, but it’s a sad, wistful smile. “Playful. Funny. She always liked makeup and clothes and would put on fashion shows in the kitchen. She’d sing in the bathtub. Played with Henry when she came home from school. Just a normal, sweet girl. I never asked anything of her but to be a good person. Look to see where she could help, treat others how she wished to be treated. That kind of thing.”

 

Oh, the irony. Janis laughs on the inside.

 

“But then the divorce happened, and it’s like she aged ten years overnight,” Stephanie sighs. “And she’s just been getting angrier and more bitter. I feel so far away from her. She doesn’t care about me or Alex anymore, and trying to get to her is impossible. She doesn’t want to be my daughter. She wants to just grow up and move out.”

 

Janis understands now. Everything is clearer than it was, and the reason for her being here is making more sense. The Georges waited a long time to receive a foster, and Janis is sure they would’ve taken literally anyone. And now she’s here, but she’s not in their home to fix Regina—in a way, she’s there to fix her parents. Her mother in particular. Which would only make her mad again if she wasn’t currently realizing maybe she’s supposed to let them fix her, too.

 

No, not fix. Janis is broken and so are they, but not all broken things need “fixing.” Sometimes they just need to be tended to and looked after and allowed to feel their pain. Broken things—broken people—can just be broken.

 

People can be there for each other without trying to force themselves to be okay again.

 

“That’s why I’m glad you’re here,” Stephanie is saying, her smile warmer now. “You remind me of her when she was younger. You’re sweet, and thoughtful, and seem to like me.”

 

Janis laughs. “I do. I really like you.”

 

Stephanie pats her arm. “I’m glad. I really like you, too.”

 

It’s quiet as she continues driving, and they both watch the road for a while, lost in thought. It’s warm and the radio softly plays holiday classics.

 

Christmas always makes Janis sad. But it’s a little over a month away, and she lets herself feel the flicker of hope that maybe she’ll still be here by then. Regina can try if she wants but she’s not going to take Christmas away from Janis. Or her mother, for that matter.

 

Janis isn’t the only one who deserves to have a normal holiday.

 

* * *

 

Janis is in the middle of continuing her sketch for Damian when Regina bursts into her room, a frenzied, mildly panicked look on her face.

 

“What is this?” she demands, and brandishes the paperclip. Janis’s heart drops and she looks back at Regina with wide eyes. “Well? I know you must’ve left it. What did you do?”

 

“I—” Janis swallows, hugging her sketchpad like it’s a shield.

 

Regina doesn’t wait for an answer. Her expression shifts, crumpling into devastation, and it’s a very human look. It doesn’t fit her face. “Did you read it?”

 

The tremor in her voice makes Janis inhale.

 

“Yes,” Janis admits, since there’s no way around it.

 

“Ugh!” Regina rakes a hand through her hair and slams the paperclip onto Janis’s nightstand. “I can’t fucking stand you. What were you even in there for, anyway?”

 

“I don’t know,” Janis tells her honestly, shrugging.

 

Regina is shaking, and there’s too much terror in her eyes for her to appear as angry as she probably wants to. She looks at Janis, jaw clenched. “Are you gonna tell?” she whispers, and her tone instantly becomes begging, hopeful.

 

“No,” Janis murmurs, lowering her sketchpad and setting it aside.

 

Regina’s porcelain brow furrows. “You aren’t?” Janis shakes her head. “That’s it, you’re not… You aren’t gonna use it against me? You’re not gonna blackmail me?”

 

“No,” Janis repeats, solidly meeting her eyes. “’Cause I’m not you.”

 

Now Regina’s face hardens, back to its usual repulsed scorn. She crosses her arms and bites her tongue for a moment. “You’re a bitch.”

 

Janis laughs. “For not telling your mom you have an eating disorder? Yeah, you’re welcome.”

 

“It’s not an eating disorder,” Regina mutters. “It’s not like that.”

 

“What would you call it, then?” Janis narrows her eyes. “What’s normal about charting every single thing you eat and how much you weigh by the end of the day?”

 

“I didn’t say it was normal,” Regina mutters. “Just—it’s not what you think, okay?”

 

Janis shrugs. “I dunno. I knew a girl who had an ED once and she fucking died, so I’d be very cautious if I were you.” She returns to her sketch, keeping it casual. “I didn’t read the rest of it, by the way. Got too distracted by your food problem.”

 

Regina snorts. “What happened to your friend isn’t going to happen to me.”

 

“How do you know?” It’s a genuine question. “How do you know you won’t wind up too thin to stand and breathing through a machine?”

 

“Because I’m not some suicidal orphan looking for an easy way out,” Regina snarls, and Janis chucks an eraser at her head without thinking twice about it.

 

“She wasn’t suicidal, she was sick,” Janis snaps. “And she was my friend. We lived together in the group home for two years. I watched her lose and lose and lose weight until she collapsed one day and died at the hospital. She started out a lot like you, writing down what she ate and how much weight she wanted to lose.”

 

Regina tugs uncomfortably at the strap on her tank top. “It’s not like that.”

 

“Then what is it like, Regina? What are you trying to do?”

 

“It’s none of your fucking business,” Regina says, and her eyes are rimmed in red. She looks away, down at her feet, and swallows hard. “Just—stay out of my room. Keep your mouth shut about everything. This, Shane, you and me. Everything.”

 

“Or else what?” Janis says. “What are you gonna do to me, Regina? We both know you aren’t gonna do shit. You can etch slurs on my locker, slip me intimidating notes, antagonize me and my friends. But that’s no fun for you if I’m expecting it, huh? So, no, there is no _or else._ ”

 

Regina’s nose flares, but she knows Janis is right. Janis has called her out too many times for her to be seen as a threat anymore. And the more Janis knows, and makes it known that she knows, the less confident and brazen Regina is.

 

Regina had Janis wrapped around her finger. But now it’s like there’s a string attached to both of their fingers, tying them as equals without one being better than the other.

 

Regina knows this now. And it dampens her power significantly.

 

Regina stomps to the door, and Janis takes the opportunity to add, just for good measure, “By the way, your mom told me about your dad.”

 

Regina whips around, blonde curls smacking her in the face. She’s speechless.

 

Janis nods. “Yeah. So. Obviously I’m not gonna mess with that, either. Because it affects your mom. But I’m sorry about the divorce. I wish it hadn’t made you like this.”

 

Regina’s lip curls, but she still doesn’t say anything.

 

“You know there are ways of coping with trauma that don’t involve hurting other people,” Janis says helpfully. “And the first step to dealing with it is admitting you’re traumatized. I’ve been to a lot of psychiatrists, so I understand.”

 

“You understand nothing,” Regina whispers. “I’m not traumatized. I’m not like you. I’m not sick, either. Stop thinking you know me better because my stupid mother decided to—”

 

“She’s not stupid,” Janis interrupts defensively. “You’re hurting her. She misses you so much, it kills her. She’s so lonely without you, Regina.”

 

“So she got you,” Regina argues. “You’re here now. She doesn’t need me.”

 

“I’m not a replacement,” Janis reminds her.

 

“You’re right. You’re an uninvited guest.” Regina sniffs. “On my part, anyway.”

 

“Yeah, see, that’s what I don’t get.” Janis climbs out of bed now, walking over to her. “You told your parents you were happy about this. They wouldn’t have antagonized your bitchy behavior by bringing me here if they knew how you really felt. So why did you lie?”

 

Janis knows why, she just wants to see if Regina will answer. When she doesn’t, Janis keeps going. “Because you knew your mom might get off your back if she had someone else to take care of. And I’ve just been your punching bag.”

 

Regina is trembling again. But it doesn’t give Janis any sort of sick satisfaction.

 

“You know you’ve got problems,” Janis says, lowering her voice, trying to sound sympathetic. “But I do, too. And I’ve done everything I can to not end up like you. So however your parents’ divorce makes you feel, however you see your body, it’s not your fault. But what is your fault is how you treat other people because _you_ feel like shit. That’s not fair. And it’s not nice.”

 

Regina sneers. “I don’t exist on this earth to be _nice._ ”

 

“Clearly,” Janis agrees. “But you should be. There’s other ways to let your anger out. And you might not feel deserving of anyone listening to you, but you are. And it helps. I used to be mad as fuck about going to therapy, because I didn’t think it would do anything. But it did, and even though I’m still messed up, at least I don’t take it out on other people. You can’t say that, since you’ve deluded yourself into thinking being a bully is an okay coping mechanism.”

 

She tilts Regina’s chin up with a finger and Regina swats her hand away. Unfazed, Janis isn’t done yet. “So, yeah. You’re insecure, and your parents’ divorce fucked you up, and your dad doesn’t seem like he was the greatest, so I get it. But none of that is an excuse for how you go around treating people. How you treat me.”

 

She lets that hang in the air between them, and it’s the first time she actually feels bad for this girl. She still holds Regina responsible for her actions and will wait for an apology until the end of time, but she’s learned a lot about her in just a day, and what she knows matters.

 

“So just think about that,” Janis pleads gently, opening the door for her. “Unless you wanna be the person getting stepped on, you need to clean up your act. Because this isn’t going to last. Not as long as there’s people like me who know you’re full of shit.”

 

Regina stares at her wordlessly for a long minute. Then she hurries out of the room and goes back to her own, slamming the door behind her. Janis sighs and shuts her door quietly.

 

That felt good, but she just hopes Regina takes it to heart. She doubts it, but it’s out there, and Regina listened to her. And for once, Janis feels heard.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally some good cadnis content in this chapter.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  brief moment where regina throws janis’s foster care in her face

Cady invites Damian and Janis over a few days later on Monday. Damian picks Janis up at the gates, never inquiring why she doesn’t let him drive to her house.

 

Things have been neutral between Janis and Regina since their chat the other night, but Janis is happy to be ignored rather than terrorized. She actually had a good weekend: she talked on the phone with Sharon, finished Damian’s sketch and started Cady’s, and painted her nails.

 

Cady comments on her good mood when she lets them inside. “I like seeing you smile, Janis,” she says, poking her in the arm playfully.

 

Janis blushes all the way to her hairline as she shrugs off her coat.

 

She meets Cady’s mom then, because Mrs. Heron is home today and pops out of the kitchen to say hello. Janis is flustered and unprepared, but manages not to make a complete moron of herself. Meeting people, parents in particular, is always weird.

 

The trio (and Simon) hang out in Cady’s basement for a few hours, Cady moderating as Janis kicks Damian’s ass at Mario Kart, then Janis gives helpful, confused commentary as they play the new Spider-man game. Janis ends up on her back with Simon happily laying on top of her, and as she watches her friends argue over something in the game, she wonders how she got so lucky to stumble upon these two idiots.

 

Damian’s mom texts him around five to ask him to come home, which means Janis has to go, too, so he can drop her off. But she sees the disappointment on Cady’s face, and something in her gut tells her to stay. She’ll find a way to get home that doesn’t involve Cady finding out.

 

“You know my mom can always drive you,” Cady reminds her after Damian leaves.

 

“I know,” Janis says airily as Cady turns off the TV.

 

“C’mon, let’s go upstairs,” she says, tugging on Janis’s arms. “Have you seen my room yet?”

 

“No, actually,” Janis tells her, stomach dropping a thousand feet.

 

Simon follows them up the steps and Janis is comforted by the press of his furry body against her legs. She’d benefit from a service dog if that was a possibility.

 

Janis’s heart pounds the nearer they get to Cady’s room on the second floor. She’s just never been alone with a girl in her room before, and despite the fact absolutely nothing is happening between them, she’s still weirdly nervous.

 

“Ta-daaa,” Cady sings, opening her door. “Welcome to my lair.”

 

Janis snorts, gazing in awe around Cady’s earthy-toned room. Her desk is under the windows, organized and clean, and her bed is made up with pillows and a single stuffed lion.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Cady groans, rolling her eyes when she sees Janis noticing it. She goes to grab it, sitting on her bed. “My granddad got me this when I was, like, five.”

 

“It’s cute,” Janis tells her, itching to sit next to her but not wanting to invite herself.

 

“His name is Roary,” Cady says, and holds the battered, well-loved lion up to her face. “As you can see, I was super proud of that name.”

 

Janis laughs. Cady smiles at the sound and gently puts the lion back in its place.

 

“He looks remarkably like you,” Janis teases, due to the fact Roary and Cady have lots of hair. Cady tosses a throw pillow at her and Janis lobs it back at her head.

 

After sniffing around for a minute, Simon now leaps onto Cady’s bed and flops down. She rubs his belly as Janis keeps admiring the room.

 

Janis looks at Cady loving on her dog, and is overwhelmed by this strange sense of urgency—it hits her like a train, and her mouth goes dry. She needs to tell Cady about Regina. She feels like she owes it to Cady to be honest with her, especially now that they’re alone.

 

Janis loves Damian, but his theatrics would only make it harder.

 

“Hey, um,” she’s saying, without even realizing she’s choosing to say it, “can we talk?”

 

Cady raises her eyebrows. “Sure. About what?”

 

“Um…” Janis fidgets with the edge of her jacket, pulse leaping into overdrive. Cady makes her dog move over so she can pat the spot beside her, and now Janis hesitantly sits next to her. It gives her a feeling of claustrophobia, almost. But she sits, because she has to.

 

“What’s going on?” Cady asks, nothing but concerned. Janis can’t look at her. Cady will either hate Janis for keeping this from her, or… Well, Janis isn’t sure. She’s known Cady for barely a month, she has no clue what she’ll do, only hope for the best.

 

“Nothing,” Janis ultimately says, but Cady presses her arm to Janis’s supportively. Somehow, that little touch makes it easier to say it out loud, and Janis inhales before bringing it up.

 

“Okay, so. Um. Please try to understand why I didn’t wanna tell you this,” Janis prefaces, her immediate instinct to put up a wall between her and Cady while begging her to stay calm. “I’m really sorry, I just never knew how to tell you.”

 

“Janis, what’s wrong?” Cady inquires in a low, panicked voice.

 

Janis scratches her ear, beginning to burn with something akin to shame. “Um. Well. Have you ever wondered why I usually leave with Damian, or why I haven’t invited you over yet?”

 

“Sometimes,” Cady admits in earnest. “But we know not to pry. It’s your business.”

 

Janis grins slightly. “Yeah. But it’s—it’s not that. And it isn’t that I don’t like my foster family or it would make you judge me or anything, I know you guys don’t care about that. I just…feel like you’ll judge me if you knew who I’m living with.”

 

Cady is contemplative for a minute, trying to compute that. “Do I know them?”

 

“You did,” Janis whispers, staring at her hands. “Still kinda do.”

 

Cady’s brow furrows and she stares at Janis, trying to piece together a puzzle Janis is trying to help her complete. In her peripheral, Janis sees reality dawning on Cady’s face, and her gut clenches the worst it ever has in response.

 

“Oh,” Cady eventually sighs, and Janis grits her teeth anxiously. “You live with the Georges.” It isn’t a question. And perhaps Janis is overthinking it, but Cady sounds a bit disappointed.

 

“Yeah,” Janis murmurs, still unable to look directly at her friend.

 

There’s a terribly long pause prior to Cady saying, “You could’ve told me,” and now she clearly sounds hurt, hurt that Janis didn’t trust her with this at first. “I mean, I kinda get why you didn’t, but… Wow. You live with that demon.”

 

“Her parents are fine,” Janis says hollowly. “She’s a nightmare.”

 

Cady nods, but doesn’t say anything else. Janis feels obligated to explain, albeit hastily, “That same night I moved in, Regina called me a dyke and threatened me. I couldn’t tell anybody we live together, _‘or else.’_ I was scared of her. She had the upper hand. I didn’t want _her_ to chase me out of her house, so I kept quiet about it.”

 

“What made you decide to tell me, then?” Cady wonders.

 

“Because…things are different,” Janis confesses. “They’re changing, with her and I. She’s not as tough or amazing as she thinks she is, and now that I…know things, about her, she knows she can’t talk as big of a game anymore.”

 

“What kinda things?” Cady asks, hesitant but morbidly curious.

 

“Um. Do you know about her parents’ divorce?” Cady nods, eyes wide. “Okay. Well, that. Her mom told me about it. And it explains a lot, honestly. And, um… Just, y’know. I’ve called her out on her shit too much for her to still be able to intimidate me. She knows what I know.”

 

“There’s more,” Cady says blankly. “Isn’t there?”

 

Janis fidgets uncomfortably, wanting to reveal everything but knowing in her heart that it’d be the stupidest thing she’s ever done. “Yeah, but…I’m figuring out how to deal with it. Between us. I still don’t like her and I know she hates me, but…I dunno, it’s hard to explain.”

 

Cady chews her tongue. “Have either of you ever brought up what she did to me?” she asks in a dry voice. “Has she mentioned it, or have you called her out?”

 

“I told her what she said about you that day in the caf wasn’t cool,” Janis says. “We still should talk in-depth about what happened, though.”

 

“I don’t expect anything from her,” Cady admits. “Like, at this point, she’s not apologizing. I have to let that go. I can still be angry about it, but I can’t hope for it to get better.”

 

_I’ll hope for you, then,_ Janis doesn’t say, finding it too cheesy despite it being true. She has a closer look into Regina’s life; digging deeper will make answers surface. Regina is a layered, complex, extremely flawed individual.

 

But maybe she’s not too far gone. Like Janis, maybe she’s still worth fighting for.

 

It’s quiet again, softer now, until Janis says, “I’m sorry, Caddy. I should’ve told you.”

 

Cady shrugs. “No, it’s okay. I understand. I can’t…hold that against you. I know Regina, she’s a demonic hellbeast. Being threatened by her is scary.”

 

Janis’s pulse is beginning to slow down, and she finally looks at Cady, who offers a tiny smile of solidarity. She takes Janis’s hand, and the warm press of her palm and fingers to Janis’s is just about the greatest sensation ever.

 

“Thanks for telling me,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry you have to live with her. I didn’t know that the Georges were foster parents. They never fostered anyone when I knew her. What’s it like?”

 

“Her mom is amazing,” Janis says, first and foremost. “Like, really. Her parents are great. She’s just fractured their family so much that I’m kind of…filling the void.”

 

“You’re worth more than that,” Cady starts to say.

 

“Oh, I know,” Janis insists. “I know. Her mom’s just really lonely. She misses Regina a lot. So it worked out that they got me. I’m a teenage girl she can dote on, and who will let her.”

 

Cady studies Janis’s face, but doesn’t reply. Janis didn’t want her to.

 

“So,” she eventually sighs, relaxed now that Cady didn’t blow a gasket. “Yeah. That’s the cold, shiny, hard truth.” Cady laughs and leans her head on Janis’s shoulder.

 

“I’m glad Regina hasn’t corrupted you,” Cady says. “It’s far too easy to let her get to you.”

 

“I’ve already been through hell,” Janis deadpans. “So I’m not gonna let some rich plastic bitch make me feel bad about myself anymore.”

 

“Good for you, Jan,” Cady laughs, and Janis catches herself before she kisses Cady’s hair. It’d be weird. And she’s already had enough anxiety for one day.

 

Nothing else is said for a bit, then Cady murmurs, “Thanks for telling me.”

 

“Sure. Sorry it took a while,” Janis whispers.

 

Cady shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. I understand. It’s not your fault.”

 

Janis squeezes her hand. She squeezes back twice as hard.

 

* * *

 

The Plastics are convening in the Georges’ living room when Janis walks in, having accepted a ride from Mrs. Heron, who luckily didn’t say anything about recognizing the neighborhood.

 

“Oh, hi, Janis,” Karen chirps from the couch, waving a bottle of polish in her direction. Regina whips around, but Janis beelines for the stairs.

 

“Janis, wait,” she calls after her, and Janis pauses on the step. Regina hurries over to her, and Janis frowns down at the blonde, anticipating being yelled at for some reason.

 

“Wanna join us?” Regina asks, seeming sincere, but Janis isn’t going to risk it. She shakes her head and mutely continues her trek up the stairs, and hears a little huff behind her. But Regina doesn’t follow, not that Janis expected her to.

 

That was odd. Janis is having somewhat of a good day, she’s not going to be sabotaged.

 

When she reaches her room, she puts on her music and flops onto her bed to continue Cady’s sketch. The one Janis already did is for her eyes only. It’s strangely more personal, and she’s trying not to feel like a total creep about it.

 

She’s so incredibly relieved that Cady’s not mad at her. She reminds herself she only kept it a secret for two weeks, then is stunned by the fact she’s only known her friends for two weeks. It seems so much longer given everything that’s happened this month.

 

Sharon is dropping by on the twenty-fifth to reevaluate and see how things are going. Janis, admittedly, is excited to see her. During their phone call on Saturday, they made plans to grab lunch before Sharon goes back to Naperville. Janis is always unsettled by how much Sharon’s presence in her life means to her, since she’s vowed so many times to not care. But Sharon is a good person; Janis needs good people.

 

People like her, and the Georges. Janis’s throat feels tight, so she rubs it, wondering how truly fucked she is for allowing herself to let her guard down for them.

 

Not just for them, but Regina, too. Intentional or not, Janis isn’t looking at Regina through one-way glass. Regina can see her just as clearly in return, and Janis doesn’t know how to feel.

 

A part of her wants to help. To make Regina less of a monster. Not just for her sake if she gets to stay (still doubtful), but for Stephanie and Alex.

 

And maybe for Regina, too. No monster like that actually loves herself.

 

Janis would know. She’s felt like a monster her entire life.

 

* * *

 

Thanksgiving morning rolls around crisp and cold, and Janis leaves with Stephanie at noon to help her finish buying what she needs for dinner. They run into a friend of the Georges while at the grocery store, and Janis hides her anxious hands behind her back, trying not to embarrass Stephanie too much with her tall awkwardness.

 

Stephanie rubs her arm when they eventually walk away. “You can stop holding your breath.”

 

Janis does, wishing she didn’t tense up so much around strangers, even nice ones.

 

Especially the nice ones, she thinks.

 

Regina is out doing God knows what all day, to her parents’ dismay, so Janis spends most of her time downstairs so they won’t feel alone. Thanksgiving, while abhorrent historically, is a time for being with family, and Regina still can’t make the damn effort for one day.

 

Janis doesn’t want to be too mushy, but does feel immensely thankful she has made it this far. As for the Georges, she’s thankful for them, too. More than words can say. Stephanie makes it a little easier to hope for something better.

 

Regina comes home around six, greeted by her mother asking where she’s been. “Gretchen’s, Mom,” she says, exasperated, unintentionally making eye contact with Janis as she’s heading up the stairs. Janis shakes her head slightly to show her displeasure with Regina talking to her mom like that. Regina makes a face in response prior to disappearing.

 

In the kitchen, Stephanie huffs a sigh, and her strained expression breaks Janis’s heart.

 

An hour later, they’re sitting down for dinner, and Regina has yet to come down after her mom called for her three times. Janis’s stomach lurches upon realizing that this holiday in particular is probably going to be a challenge for Regina.

 

“I’ll go get her,” she murmurs to Stephanie, who mouths a thank you. At Regina’s door, Janis is initially hesitant, then gently knocks while saying, “Regina?”

 

“I’m _coming,_ ” Regina barks. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

 

Janis grits her teeth and aggressively opens the door. Regina screeches and whirls around, a hand over her heart. She’s changed into jeans and a cream turtleneck, to Janis’s surprise. She expected to see her already in her sweats.

 

“Get out,” Regina hollers. “Get the fuck out right now.”

 

“You come into my room uninvited all the damn time,” Janis growls.

 

Regina’s eyes flare, but she doesn’t protest. She actually doesn’t say anything at all, so after a heated silence, Janis turns and walks out, pointedly leaving the door open.

 

She tries to feel for her, she really does. But she can sympathize for Regina and still stand by what she’s been telling her: you have to be held accountable for your actions no matter what it is you’re going through. You have to try to do better.

 

And so a very visibly reluctant Regina joins them a few minutes later, moving her typical place setting further away from Janis. Janis grins humorlessly.

 

Stephanie is already too spent to comment on it, and Alex doesn’t, either. Servings are passed around and Janis’s mouth waters as she admires her plate. Stephanie kisses her on the cheek and thanks her for her help, and Janis is thrown by the crestfallen look on Regina’s face rather than a jealous sneer. She hides behind her hair, not realizing Janis noticed.

 

“Wait, before we begin,” Stephanie says, and Janis hides her face in her hands when she lifts her glass. “Nooo! Aw, honey, it’ll just take a minute.”

 

“God,” Janis moans, emerging with flaming cheeks. She was afraid this would happen, but will have to just suck it up.

 

“To Janis,” Stephanie starts, and the glowing look on her face is too much. “We’re so happy to have you with us. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. And I hope you feel at home here. If anyone was going to come to us, I’m glad it was you. Happy Thanksgiving to you.”

 

Janis, who is slowly sinking into her seat, gives a thumbs-up in response, throat far too tight to say anything. Stephanie rubs her shoulder.

 

“Cheers,” she and Alex chorus as Janis straightens up. Regina is a dark cloud.

 

They eat then, thank God, and Janis tries not to bring attention to Regina’s eating habits even though it’s hard to keep her eyes on her own plate. She’s both morbidly curious and wanting it to be exposed without her involvement.

 

“Regina, what are you thankful for?” Stephanie is asking, pulling Janis from her thoughts. She sits again, eager to see how this inevitable shitshow is going to unfold.

 

“Janis,” Regina says in a sickly sweet voice, and everyone’s eyebrows raise. “I take back what I said about her, Mom. I’m actually glad she’s here. Because now you’re so busy doting on her you don’t have time to fuss over me anymore. And Janis, I’m sure it makes you so happy to know that your fourteenth mom loves you so much.”

 

Unlike how she subconsciously predicted, Janis is the one who stands from her chair, tossing her fork down. She fixes Regina with a scathing look and says coldly, “Yeah, I think she does. I bet she’s thankful for me, too, because now she doesn’t have to deal with you. If you want an example of what a daughter should be like, take a good long look at me.”

 

“Oh, I have,” Regina says coldly, eyes brimming with tears. “But how’d you even know what that means?”

 

Janis jostles the table prior to storming out of the kitchen. There’s shouting behind her, coming from both Alex and Stephanie. Regina starts screaming a moment later. Janis covers her ears with her hands, feeling like she’s on the verge of sensory overload for the first time in years.

 

She locks her door when she gets to her room, and succumbs to it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t believe trigger warnings are necessary for this chapter, but let me know if i should add any ♡

Janis is cold. But she can’t reach for her duvet, frozen where she lays with tears drying on her face. She stares up at her ceiling, numb from head to toe.

 

The yelling has stopped. Regina also locked herself in her room not long after it started. Janis has been crying for an hour, overwhelmed by it all, only just now beginning to relax. It is eerily quiet downstairs, and it sickens her.

 

Regina will never learn. That much is obvious. Janis doesn’t know why she’s surprised.

 

There’s a knock on her door eventually, coaxing her back into herself so she can dampen the concern when Stephanie comes in. She’s sitting up as the door creaks open, head pounding a little now that she’s allowing herself to feel the soreness in every part of her body.

 

“Hi, sweetie,” Stephanie whispers, and she looks like she’s been crying, too. Janis can’t make eye contact, shame coloring her cheeks. A guilty sob rises and dies in her throat; she forces it down before it can escape.

 

“I’m sorry,” she manages to mutter without breaking down.

 

“Why are you sorry?” Stephanie asks sincerely, gingerly sitting at the foot of Janis’s bed. Janis shakes her head with a half shrug, pointedly picking at her freshly painted nails.

 

Stephanie scoots closer so she can put a hand on Janis’s knee. “It’s not your fault,” she says, her voice low and serious. “Look at me. What she said was disrespectful and uncalled for. You had every right to defend yourself. Okay?”

 

“Shouldn’t have…” Janis goes to say, then stops, her train of thought derailing itself. It takes a moment for it to get back on track so she can continue. “I shouldn’t have made a scene. Not at the dinner table. I’m sorry that I made it worse and ruined it.”

 

“Honey,” Stephanie says, squeezing her knee. “It’s okay. I understand. She’s a lot.”

 

Janis still can’t look at her, but nods in agreement.

 

“Her being jealous, or whatever, does not mean she gets to make comments about your life,” Stephanie insists gently. “That wasn’t fair.”

 

“She was right, though,” Janis mumbles, eyes burning. “I don’t know what it’s like to be someone’s daughter. I always fucking get kicked out before I have the chance.”

 

She leans back against her pillows, a nauseous, scratchy feeling poking at her stomach. “I try so hard to be good. And before, I’d get scared of being comfortable, so I’d lash out and force it to come to an end. I’ve put myself back in the home more than my fosters have, honestly. I’m a disaster.”

 

Hand now on Janis’s ankle, Stephanie listens patiently. “If it’s any comfort to you, you aren’t a disaster to us. And…given the life you’ve lead, it makes sense why getting attached to others is frightening to you. Because it hasn’t always been your fault, and even if it was—it really wasn’t. You’re a kid. And people give up on what they can’t understand. And I am sorry those people never tried to make an effort to understand. I think they would’ve learned a lot.”

 

Janis inhales. Her chest is aching so badly.

 

“You deserve to be here,” Stephanie whispers. “We want you here. And we’ll make it work. It’s not your fault that Regina lashes out when she’s upset. And I’ll deal with her accordingly.”

 

Janis actually doesn’t think punishment is the answer, but barely has the energy to hold up her head, let alone form a valid argument. She rubs her temples and snuggles farther down til she can put her legs in Stephanie’s lap.

 

Stephanie rubs her calf. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she says somberly. “I can’t stop you from blaming yourself, but you don’t have to apologize.”

 

“I should’ve been the bigger person,” Janis mutters. “And let you handle it.”

 

“Maybe. But neither I or Alex blame you for getting upset,” Stephanie tells her. She sighs then, long and weary. “I’m sorry our first Thanksgiving had to turn out like this.”

 

She says _our first_ like she genuinely expects there to be more.

 

Janis would laugh if she wasn’t trying not to cry.

 

There’s a quiet pause, with Stephanie’s nails absentmindedly stroking Janis’s leg. Janis shuts her eyes and just savors the feeling, pretending she’s someone else again.

 

At some point Stephanie gets up, and pulls the duvet over Janis, turning off her bedside lamp. Janis would wave in farewell if she could, but can’t even open her eyes. Stephanie presses a kiss to her cheek before slipping out of the room.

 

Janis doesn’t dream as she dozes off. She prefers it that way.

 

* * *

 

Janis wakes up the following morning with little memory of having gotten up to shower and put on pajamas, but clearly she did because she doesn’t feel as grimy as she thought.

 

She reaches for her phone, greeted by a text from Cady, sent last night.

 

 

It brings a smile to Janis’s face, and warms her heart. Cady likes her enough she took the time to message her on Thanksgiving. Even now.

 

Truthfully, Janis was partially bracing herself for Cady to change her mind about how she feels in regards to what Janis told her. So Janis is relieved to see that isn’t the case.

 

The house is still and quiet when she bravely ventures out of her room, phone in hand. Regina is evidently asleep, but something compels Janis to sneak up to her door anyway. She puts an ear to the wood, listening for…anything.

 

It’s silent, though she doesn’t know what she expected otherwise. She heads for the stairs so she doesn’t get caught, but upon entering the room she sees she wasn’t going to be.

 

Because Regina is down here after all, watching TV. Janis freezes behind her, glad she isn’t in a spot where she’d notice Janis. And yet Janis doesn’t move; she waits for no reason, almost expecting Regina to come alive and attack her.

 

She keeps walking, too hungry to retreat to her room, and also wanting to prove she won’t go back to fearing Regina. She goes into the kitchen, now alerting Regina of her presence, and is quiet for her parents’ sake as she heats up last night’s leftovers. Then she takes a seat at the counter, tapping into her social media as she eats, ignoring Regina.

 

When she’s finished, she puts her dishes in the sink, then goes to sit on the couch. She keeps her distance at the very end, folding her legs up, still not looking at Regina. A cartoon is on the TV, and once Janis looks vaguely interested, Regina turns up the volume for her without being asked. She’s wearing sweats, curls pulled back in a messy bun, and it’s the first time Janis has seen her without an ounce of makeup on.

 

Regina is pretty. Her blue eyes naturally pop without additional liner or fake lashes. She has porcelain skin. Right now she looks like she hasn’t slept a wink, but even so it doesn’t diminish her natural beauty. Makeup and clothes are probably a masquerade to her.

 

Janis doesn’t judge her for it, obviously. She couldn’t care less who wears what. And she most certainly doesn’t classify herself as “not like other girls,” because that’s bullshit. She isn’t trying to be someone she’s not, and Regina might be a piece of work, but her fashion choices do not have any sort of bearing on her worth as a person.

 

Seeing Regina like this reminds Janis, again, that a sixteen-year-old human being lives under all those layers of cosmetics and expensive clothing. Just like Janis lives in her jackets, fishnet tights, and often behind the curtain of her hair. They aren’t that different.

 

That doesn’t nauseate Janis as much as she thought it would. What does startle her, however, is how much she still kind of, sort of cares.

 

An hour of silence passes, and it’s the least amount of interaction they’ve ever had while being in the same room. The morning cartoons end eventually, and Regina gets up as a commercial starts. Janis listens to her mope around in the kitchen, either obligated to eat to prove to Janis she isn’t dealing with anything, or because she’s so starved she can’t resist.

 

She returns with a bag of Sour Patch Kids, pausing in front of Janis to offer some. Janis reaches in and grabs a handful, and Regina returns to her seat on the couch. Janis is tempted to ask her if she’s going to chart how much sugar she’s going to consume, then thinks better of it. That’d be ill-timed and a bit mean. She’s not going to _act_ like Regina.

 

Regina tosses Janis the remote, and as Janis is flipping through channels, Regina finally pipes up to say, “You were crying last night.”

 

She doesn’t sound derisive or judgmental. It’s almost like she’s asking a question. Janis looks at her, unsure how to respond. “I was?” she ultimately replies, knowing she broke down after dinner but having zero memory whatsoever of what happened during the night.

 

“In your sleep, maybe,” Regina tells her, noting her confusion. “Do you have bad dreams?”

 

Janis snorts. “Living with you is my daily bad dream.”

 

That screwed-up look passes over Regina’s face, then dissipates when she remembers that’s her own fault. She has no one to blame but herself for the contempt she and Janis might always have for each other.

 

It’s quiet again for a while as they watch the National Geographic channel. Then Regina says, her voice barely above a whisper, and like it takes effort, “I’m sorry, Janis.”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “You know your apologies won’t mean anything to me unless you stop doing shit you have to apologize for.”

 

Regina can’t argue with that, so she doesn’t. Instead she says, “Your case worker is coming in a few days to see you, isn’t she? I saw it marked on Mom’s calendar.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis confirms stiffly, teetering on protective at the mention of Sharon.

 

Regina frowns thoughtfully. “That’s cool. You gonna tell her about me so you can leave?”

 

“No,” Janis mutters, contemplating lobbing the remote at Regina’s head. “I don’t wanna leave. I actually like it here, all things considered.”

 

Regina physically restrains herself from making some snide remark. But she doesn’t say much else after that, and neither does Janis. They eat their candy in silence.

 

Janis wasn’t lying, though. She won’t tell Sharon.

 

She genuinely wants to stay. For herself, for her friends, for Stephanie. And maybe a little bit for Regina.

 

* * *

 

Janis stands on the front porch, waiting with bated breath for Sharon’s car to appear. It’s like a clock is ticking down inside her, an unknown amount of time left.

 

It’s another anxious minute until the vintage, faded turquoise Mercedes turns onto the George’s brick driveway. Sharon waves when she sees Janis, and Janis hurries down the steps.

 

“Hey, kid,” Sharon greets as she climbs out of the car, and Janis doesn’t hesitate to hug her. It feels like a piece of a constantly moving home is coming to a standstill, being able to give this woman a hug after what feels like forever.

 

“I missed you, too,” Sharon murmurs, rubbing Janis’s back prior to them separating. She takes the girl’s face between her hands for a moment, then pats her cheek.

 

Stephanie hobbles out in her heels then, Henry on her arm, and Sharon returns her wave. She retrieves her binder from her car, which Janis offers to carry.

 

There’s no doubt in her mind that the evaluation will go well. Which is new for her.

 

Sharon is welcomed into the house and Janis is glad Regina is hiding in her room. She’ll have to emerge at some point so Sharon can see what a friendly and pleasant relationship she has with Janis. If Regina sabotages this, any sympathy Janis has for her is out the window.

 

Janis doesn’t have to be present for the overall meeting between Sharon and the parents, so it comes as a semi-relief to go upstairs for a bit. She hears music in Regina’s room, but won’t try to bother her and potentially fuel the fire.

 

Janis texts with Damian to keep her mind off it, and takes this opportunity to tell him the truth. Like Cady, he isn’t upset with her, only concerned for her wellbeing. Janis won’t give specifics, obviously, but his mini meltdown over her living with Regina is understandable.

 

Sharon comes to see Janis’s room after a while, and smiles when she sees the sketches that are hanging from the walls, pinned up on a string. Alex helped Janis put them up yesterday so it would look nice in time for Sharon’s visit.

 

“Oh, there’s that dog we saw,” Sharon laughs, pointing to it, and Janis nods, pleased that she remembers. “Aw, gosh. I miss seeing your drawings all the time.”

 

“You can take this one,” Janis says, flipping through her smaller sketchpad til she finds one of her and Sharon, a simple, cutesy doodle she drew one night when she couldn’t sleep.

 

Sharon takes it and her eyes grow soft behind the lenses of her always crooked glasses, and Janis grins shyly when she looks at her. “Thank you,” Sharon tells her. “I love it. I didn’t know you liked me enough to draw us together.”

 

Janis rolls her eyes, and Sharon laughs. She gently tucks it into her binder for safekeeping. “I will put this in my wallet later,” she vows, patting it affectionately. She sighs then, taking in the rest of the room. “Your room is pretty. You finally got fairy lights for your bed.”

 

Janis has wanted twinkle lights for years, so Stephanie kindly got her some after she casually mentioned it. Her room feels more like _her_ room as the days go by, her one sane safe place to cry or hide or tune out everything else.

 

“Where do you wanna go eat, kid?” Sharon asks after a minute.

 

“Waffle House,” Janis says without hesitation. She firmly believes breakfast food is acceptable at any time of day if you are at a Waffle House.

 

Regina has yet to come out of hiding, so as they’re headed back downstairs, Janis mutters to Sharon, “Barbie girl is kind of moody all the time. Don’t take it personally.”

 

Sharon laughs. “Oh, I get it. You’re moody, too.”

 

She pokes Janis in the arm when Janis makes a face, but doesn’t argue. She sits on the steps to don her boots as Sharon thanks Alex and Stephanie, who luckily aren’t so possessive of the teen that they prevent her from leaving.

 

Maybe it’s weird that Janis and Sharon are so close. But it makes sense to them.

 

Janis has missed being in the front of Sharon’s car. She cranks her seat back to give her long legs more space, and Sharon lets her pick the radio station.

 

At Waffle House, they gravitate towards the booth in the very back, Janis’s choice every single time.

 

“So,” Sharon sighs after they’re seated. “How are things? Really?” Janis raises her eyebrows. “Like, with school and the Georges and stuff.”

 

Janis shrugs, studying the menu even though she already knows what she wants. “Things are fine. I like school. I have friends. Stephanie and Alex are great.”

 

“And Regina?” Sharon asks, since that’s what she meant. “Why’s she so moody?”

 

“She’s a spoiled teenage girl,” Janis deadpans.

 

Sharon chuckles, and a waitress comes by then to welcome them. They start by ordering their drinks—iced tea for Sharon, orange juice for Janis—but Sharon still has to decide on a meal.

 

“You’re gonna get the hash browns and sunny side up, Grandma,” Janis teases.

 

“And you’re getting the chocolate chip waffle with extra whipped cream,” Sharon fires back.

 

Janis concedes by sticking her tongue out, and Sharon boops her nose so she’ll stop. That’s been their thing since Janis was seven.

 

“Does she bother you?” Sharon asks inevitably, and Janis shrugs. “She was sweet when I met her, but I know how kids are. They perform to please adults. How is she around you?”

 

Janis purses her lips, pretending to be invested in the menu like she’s never been here before. Sharon gently takes it from her so she has no choice but to pay attention. Janis really does not want to talk about Regina, but it seems she’s stuck.

 

“We’re—it’s whatever,” Janis mumbles, sliding down in her seat like a child.

 

“Sit up straight. That’s not an answer.”

 

“Fine. She’s not that nice,” Janis admits, chin in her hand. “She’s queen bee at school, though lately her pedestal has been shaking a little. She thinks the world revolves around her and is a total diva. But, I mean, we’re…not friends, but I’m trying to get through to her.”

 

Arms folded on the table, Sharon listens carefully. “It’s not your job to parent her,” she reminds Janis. “Do her mom and dad know—?”

 

“They know she has issues,” Janis interrupts, rubbing her neck. “I haven’t…told them about us and our problems. We just butt heads sometimes, that’s all.”

 

“Is she mean to you at school?” Sharon wants to know. “In front of other people?”

 

“No,” Janis insists. “No, we—she knows not to mess with me. She actually ignores me for the most part. She doesn’t want people to know her parents are fostering me, so that’s fine. I don’t care either way. I told my friends about it, though.”

 

“And how did they react?” Sharon wonders.

 

“They’re cool with it,” Janis murmurs, not going to mention how Regina and Cady used to be besties. “I mean, they just want what’s best for me. They’re good friends.”

 

“I’m glad,” Sharon says softly. There’s a pause before she says, “If this girl tries to hurt you or publicly shame you in any way, you can tell—”

 

“I’m not leaving their house,” Janis snaps, louder than she intended. “Sharon, I don’t wanna be placed anywhere else. I’m not letting Regina drive me out. I can handle it.”

 

“I know you can,” Sharon replies. “You’re tough as nails, kid. But you shouldn’t have to _handle it_ when you’re just trying to exist. You’re allowed to tell her parents about her behavior if she’s upsetting you. It’s their job to protect both of you. They aren’t getting paid to let their daughter harass you, understand? You’re in their home so they can give you one. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself and tell people when someone’s hurting you. You don’t have to save her or make her better. That isn’t your job.”

 

Janis knew this already, but hearing it from Sharon just cements the reality that Regina is not Janis’s responsibility. But Janis has to walk on eggshells around her to avoid being blown up at like on Thanksgiving. It’s a constant loop of hostility and, if the shoe fits, Regina’s jealousy.

 

“And I’m not going to pull you out,” Sharon assures Janis in a low voice. “I’d encourage you to speak up if she’s driving you nuts, but that doesn’t mean I’m taking you back. Only if you’re in immediate physical or psychological danger. Are you?”

 

“No,” Janis mutters. “She’s a bitch, but she’s not crazy. She won’t hurt me.”

 

Sharon looks at her for a long moment. She sips her orange juice. “I just want you to be safe, kid,” Sharon sighs eventually, sounding sad.

 

“All families have problems,” Janis says quietly, shrugging. “Regina’s a lot, but I don’t let her get to me. Like you said. I’m tough as nails.”

 

_I sort of have to be,_ she doesn’t say out loud.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please heed the tw’s with caution, my loves ♡ graphic depictions of violence apply to this chapter.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  attempted rape/sexual assault   
>  physical assault   
>  blood/violence   
>  panic attacks

Janis comes home to raised voices up in Regina’s room. She shuts the front door and listens, ultimately climbing the stairs to get closer since they’re too muffled.

 

She gets the gist of it after several seconds. Regina’s parents let things cool down after dinner on Thursday, and now are actually doing something about it without Janis having to bring it up. They evidently laid out some ground rules, because Regina is shrieking about “me time” and it being “unfair” that she can’t leave the house unless she asks for permission. Honestly, Janis is surprised that wasn’t already implemented, but whatever.

 

She bites her lip to keep from smiling too big as she sneaks to her room. She’s mostly relieved she doesn’t have to be the one to make Regina’s parents take matters into their own hands.

 

She does know, however, that the less freedom Regina has, the more likely she’ll be to act out and her behavior to worsen. Janis understands that all too well, she’s been both a victim and a perpetrator of it. But for now, at least, Regina knows her parents won’t let it slide anymore. Her actions, finally, have consequences.

 

Janis will sleep a little better tonight.

 

* * *

 

The arguing stops at some point, and a knock on Janis’s door follows a brief silence. “Janis?” Regina’s tired voice grumbles, and Janis tells her she can come in.

 

Regina enters looking disgruntled. “Mom said I have to apologize.”

 

Janis smiles humorlessly. “I wish you the best of luck.”

 

Regina makes a face at her, then wanders over to Janis’s desk chair to sit. Janis says before she can start, “So you can’t go out unless you ask now?”

 

Regina rolls her eyes, disgusted. “Yeah. It’s ridiculous. Why would they give me a car if they’re only going to let me use it when they say I can? I don’t wanna be cooped up here.”

 

“Welcome to the real world, Regina,” Janis deadpans, setting her sketches aside.

 

Regina flips her off. Classy.

 

“Now what am I gonna do?” she moans, seemingly reluctant to discuss what she came in here to discuss. Granted, she kind of already did apologize, but a whispered _I’m sorry_ doesn’t cover all the bases. Truthfully, Janis is curious to see just how much she’ll own up to.

 

“Learn to knit,” Janis suggests jokingly, and Regina scowls. “Kidding. But seriously, maybe you could take this new prison time to read a book or two on, I don’t know, being a better person.”

 

Arms folded, slouching in the chair not unlike Janis, Regina shakes her head. She doesn’t _say_ that’s a good idea, but Janis can see despite her reaction she can’t exactly turn it down. She is trying, whether she realizes it or not.

 

She sighs, dragging her hands down her face, and looks beat when she emerges. “Look. I am sorry, okay? Sorry for treating you like shit. For what I said on Thanksgiving. For barging in on your little club and freaking everybody out. Everything you’ve said about me is right and I have to do better and blah, blah, blah. Can I leave now?”

 

That’s better than nothing. Janis has difficulty sounding sincere when she apologizes, too, so Regina’s tone doesn’t necessarily mean she isn’t being genuine. Janis can give her the benefit of the doubt for this one. So she nods and says, “Yeah, whatever. Thanks.”

 

Regina gets up and heads for the door, pausing when she gets there. Without turning around, she adds, “I’m sorry about Cady, too.”

 

“What?” Janis says, not that she didn’t hear it, but because she wants to be sure that was it.

 

“I said—nothing. Nevermind.” Regina glares for half a second then finally leaves, shutting the door aggressively behind her. Janis smirks and settles back against her pillows, her sketchpad returning to her lap. She heard Regina the first time.

 

* * *

 

The next day at school, Janis doesn’t tell Cady what Regina said. Just because Cady will most likely scoff in disbelief, and she also deserves to hear it from Regina herself.

 

There’s a moment in the hall as the Plastics are strutting on by where Regina and Janis make eye contact, and several people look at Janis with awed expressions, like they’re impressed. It shouldn’t come as a surprise still given what went down in the cafeteria, but Janis doesn’t let it get to her head. She’s not starting a revolution.

 

Something totally unexpected happens the following Tuesday, in the form of a breakup. Aaron Samuels doesn’t show up at school and by noon the halls are buzzing with gossip. Gretchen’s big mouth leads to the reveal of the century: Regina and Aaron inexplicably split, and while the girl of the hour is present, she’s visibly in a terrible mood. Janis shivers as she sits down at her friends’ table, eyes cast in Regina’s direction. Gretchen is fixing her hair for her.

 

“I’m afraid to go home,” Janis mumbles half-jokingly, opening her apple juice. Her friends give her nervous looks, so she reassures them quickly, “I mean, I had nothing to do with it and she knows that. I think. I told her I wasn’t gonna say anything. If she broke up with him last night, it must’ve been over the phone, because she was home.”

 

She explains the new ground rules Regina’s parents laid out for her. She thinks back to all that happened yesterday after school: both she and Regina came straight home, disappeared into their rooms until dinner, then went back to their rooms after. Regina didn’t leave the house, not to Janis’s knowledge. So she had to have broken up with Aaron sometime before bed.

 

Janis wondered why Regina didn’t greet her with loads of snark this morning.

 

But now, surrounded by people relentlessly talking about her and her relationship, the stress is getting to her. She snaps at Gretchen at some point, then flounces out of the room.

 

Janis makes a move to go after her, then remembers where she is.

 

Cady and Damian would get it, but nobody else knows the truth.

 

For the next two weeks, Regina is grumpy and miserable, so much so that the Plastics have to pull their winter talent show performance. That night, Janis goes to support Damian’s rendition of _Beautiful_ by Christina Aguilera, while Cady and Damian’s mother both film him proudly. Mrs. Hubbard takes the three of them out to eat after, downtown at Damian’s favorite diner that he’s been eager to share with the girls.

 

For a few hours that day Janis forgets all about Regina and how Janis only knows her friends because she’s a foster. She feels normal, like she’s known them her whole life. Damian’s mom is warm and kind, treating Janis with as much fondness and respect she shows Cady.

 

Loved. That’s the word. Janis feels loved. And it’s real this time.

 

* * *

 

On the first Saturday of winter break, Regina comes into Janis’s room to announce, “Put on a dress, loser, we’re going to a party.”

 

Janis takes her earbuds out, though Regina spoke so loudly she heard her anyway. “Do your parents know you’re going out?” she asks, but isn’t teasing.

 

“Mom said I can go only if I bring you with me,” Regina clarifies bitterly. She’s wearing a velvet dress of a pretty maroon shade, held up by spaghetti straps, wearing tall black boots. Her hair is messy-on-purpose, eyelids dusted with dark shadow. She already looks wasted.

 

“So, get dressed,” Regina says again, then adds as an afterthought, “Please.”

 

Janis grins. That’s the only reason why she gives in.

 

Ten minutes later, Janis is wearing her best fishnets with a multicolored sleeveless dress, dark green jacket left open, combat boots on her feet. Regina must approve somewhat, since Janis comes down the stairs and Regina has no discernable reaction.

 

“Okay,” Stephanie says nervously, hands clasped. “Be good, both of you,” except she looks at Regina very pointedly, “and look out for each other. No unattended drinks. No drugs.”

 

“We know, Mom,” Regina sighs, and surprises both her mother and Janis by giving her a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll be back whenever.”

 

“No later than eleven, Regina,” Stephanie corrects sternly. Regina huffs and struts out, so she looks at Janis next. “Don’t you look cute. Have fun, honey. Be safe.”

 

Janis accepts her goodbye hug. “I will,” she promises.

 

“You have your phone?” Janis nods, showing it to her. “Okay, good. Please call me or Alex if it gets too crazy and you need adult intervention.”

 

Janis laughs, stepping out into the cold evening. “I will, Steph. See you.”

 

She waves at Stephanie prior to climbing into Regina’s car. It’s weird—she’s actually eager to go to a party. She’s never been to one, a fact she deliberately avoiding telling Stephanie, so it will be interesting to compare a real party to the nonsense that occurs in teen movies.

 

“Don’t embarrass me,” is the first thing Regina says.

 

“You’re back on your bullshit, I see,” Janis quips, buckling her seatbelt.

 

Regina scoffs and rolls her eyes, but doesn’t get into it.

 

Regina pulls into the gates of yet another rich neighborhood, stopping the car. Janis takes the hint and hops out, but leans down to ask, “Who’s house is it, anyway?”

 

“Karen’s,” Regina deadpans, then drives off after Janis shuts the door.

 

Janis follows from a distance, annoyed that Regina can’t just let it go and allow Janis a little bit of dignity. People knowing wouldn’t be so bad.

 

Janis slips her phone in her jacket pocket as she walks up to the Smiths’ front porch. Twinkling Christmas decorations greet her on the front lawn, music booming out the front door.

 

Regina is already nowhere in sight, so Janis weaves her way through the packed house to get to the kitchen. She wishes she brought earplugs, because the combined music and yelling will undoubtedly damage her inexperienced ears.

 

She pours herself something she hopes is regular fruit punch, wondering what to do next. She doesn’t want to dip just yet, aiming to stay as long as possible just so she can be sure she will never come to one of these things again. She keeps her back to the walls for the most part, a natural instinct to stay hidden while also observe everything. She doesn’t see anyone she may know, and people she sits next to in class absolutely do not count.

 

Overall, after an hour of people-watching and wandering around, avoiding equally creepy nerd boys and jocks, Janis concludes parties are lame.

 

Or maybe she’s the lame one for not guzzling spiked punch or finding a girl to make out with. What if she did that, though? For one night, she comes out of her shell a bit more. Track down a hot girl, hit on her, then kiss on a couch somewhere. A shiver of fear and lust trembles down Janis’s spine. It’s not _that_ far-fetched.

 

Except any willing girl still wouldn’t be Cady. So, perhaps not.

 

Janis hates that that’s the main reason keeping her from doing it. Because it means she likes Cady. And she swore to herself she wouldn’t. But apparently she does.

 

Kissing Cady would undoubtedly be a magical experience, and Janis never uses that word, so now she knows she’s stuck. Cady’s lips are always soft and pink, like rose petals, and Janis is no stranger to the occasional dream where she and Cady get tangled up in a fancy bed.

 

Yikes. So much for not developing a crush.

 

It’s bad enough Janis actually made friends to begin with.

 

Skin crawling now, Janis dumps her empty cup and goes to find a certain girl, but not to make out with her. She passes a clock that says it’s quarter to nine, and really doesn’t think she can do this for another two hours. Once she’s sure Regina is okay (as discreetly as she can), she’ll text Damian and see if he can come pick her up.

 

Maybe go to Cady’s house. So Janis can see Cady. For platonic reasons.

 

Janis climbs the staircase, feeling like she’s in an indie thriller horror movie because of all the neon lights but still dim atmosphere. She walks down the hall, not even wanting to think about what’s happening behind these closed doors, letting her feet carry her aimlessly.

 

She’s about to turn back when she hears a commotion in a nearby room, and wanders over to the door nervously. She hears a girl’s muffled whine and a low voice telling her to be quiet, then she slurs something gibberish in response.

 

Without knowing what lies beyond the door, Janis is grabbing the knob and thrusting it open.

 

Some senior Janis vaguely recognizes is pinning Regina to the bed, arms above her head, his face in her neck. There’s only one lipstick-stained cup on the nearby nightstand, and telling by how assured and alert his body language is, he’s not drunk like she is.

 

For a split second Janis can’t compute what she’s seeing. And then the adrenaline kicks in, an old rage bursting into flame inside of her, and she launches herself at the pair to sink her black-painted claws into this asshole’s shoulder.

 

“Ow, what the fuck—!” he yelps, and Janis hauls him off of Regina and throws him to the floor. He catches himself before he hits his head, and Janis screams as he leaps for her legs to take her down. She swiftly grabs the wooden pillar at the foot of the bed before she falls, her heavy boot colliding with his face a moment later. Now he crashes to the floor, cursing.

 

“Get up, get up,” Janis urges Regina, pulling her to the end of the bed. “Get the fuck up before he does, I swear to God—” Regina slurs something again, standing on wobbly legs, and Janis helps her balance with an arm around her waist.

 

“I gotcha,” Janis whispers, casting a frightened glance at the senior as he makes a move. She quickly deposits Regina in the chair by the vanity, turning around in time to prepare for another attack. She beats him to it, tackling him to the floor and straddling his waist, and then her fist is ruthlessly coming down on his face. She punches him til blood is streaking her knuckles, and it doesn’t belong to her. Then she scrambles to her feet, and his crotch gets a well-deserved gift in the form of her boot smashing down on him again.

 

Howling, nose spouting blood, he grabs himself as Janis goes back for Regina. She helps her to her feet again and half-carries her out of the room. People stare in shock at the sight of them together, Janis’s hand dripping blood.

 

Janis fixes everyone with dirty looks, since they’re not going to help anyway, and manages to bring Regina safely down the stairs and out the front door. Her heart is racing so loud and fast, she might faint. But she doesn’t, because Regina needs her, and blacking out on the sidewalk won’t do either of them any good. So Janis hauls Regina to her car, begging for her keys until Regina mumbles about them being in her boot.

 

Janis unlocks the car and gently helps Regina into the passenger’s seat, then walks around to the driver’s side, instantly locking the doors when she’s in. She fumbles with the keys, shaking so badly they jingle, then starts up the car unthinkingly. She got her license this summer so it’s not going to be _too_ illegal, the only problem is she’ll get arrested if she’s pulled over since she doesn’t have it with her. She’s too panicked to think of the obvious alternative.

 

“Okay, okay, okay,” she mutters to herself, trying to figure out the controls. Regina groans all of a sudden, and Janis jostles her shoulder urgently. “Stay awake. Regina, stay awake, don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep, understand?”

 

Her voice cracks. Regina’s eyelids flutter, but she nods.

 

“Good,” Janis says, then buckles her seatbelt.

 

“You’re not driving,” Regina mumbles as Janis goes to put the car in gear. A sticky hand bats at Janis’s arm. “Call Mom. You’ll—” she hiccups, “—drive into a tree.”

 

Well, she’s not wrong. Even though Janis _can_ drive, she definitely won’t be very good at it right now, and hasn’t exactly had much practice.

 

Hands still trembling, Janis turns on the heat so Regina won’t freeze, then pulls out her phone. Regina must be super drunk, otherwise she wouldn’t dare let her parents know about this.

 

Janis dizzily stares at her bloody hand as the phone rings. Her knuckles throb in time with her pulse, and her chest aches from how hard she caught her breath.

 

“Janis?” Stephanie’s anxious voice says, and tears immediately assault Janis’s eyes, blurring her vision. She tearfully pleads for Stephanie to come get them, saying something happened and Regina is totally wasted and Janis can’t drive them home because she’s too scared.

 

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” Stephanie assures, and Janis hears her say something to Alex. “We’re on our way. You’re at Karen’s house?” Janis says yes. “Okay. It’s alright. We’ll be right there. I need you both to just stay calm, okay?”

 

Janis doesn’t even know why she’s crying. Tough girls don’t cry. Tough girls beat the shit out of creepy would-be rapists.

 

Except Janis got hurt, too. She banged her hip on the bed, likely bruised her knees when she got on top of him. Now she’s noticing her tights are ripped in a couple places, and her knuckle busted open on one finger, so some of the blood is hers. Her body is still trembling with terror, the last shred of adrenaline running in her veins.

 

Janis has to hang up so she can make sure Regina doesn’t pass out. “Mom’s coming,” Janis tells her, brushing stray hair off her face. “Stay awake, okay? You can sleep at home. Mom’s coming, Regina, don’t fall asleep.”

 

Regina’s face is pinched like she’s trying not to throw up. Ultimately it’s too much for her and she pops open her door so she can retch onto the sidewalk. Janis pats her back.

 

She says something along the lines of _what was in that stuff?_

 

Janis doesn’t know. She wishes she did.

 

Regina luckily hasn’t passed out by the time Alex’s car pulls up across the street. Janis climbs out of Regina’s and waves, since it’s pitch dark save for the decorations all around them.

 

“Janis!” Stephanie shouts, and they meet each other halfway. Stephanie is the same height as Sharon, but she still hugs Janis with the same amount of maternal fierceness. Janis weeps on her shoulder while Alex presumably goes to get Regina.

 

“Shhh,” Stephanie soothes, rubbing Janis’s back. “It’s okay, honey.”

 

Everything is a blur after that. Janis and Regina sit in the back of Alex’s car, Stephanie driving them home as Alex follows in Regina’s car. Regina huddles up to Janis’s side for warmth, and their hands somehow end up intertwined.

 

Regina’s parents don’t have to ask what happened. When they get home and see both girls in actual light, the blood all over Janis and various hickeys on a drunk Regina tell an obvious story. Stephanie takes Regina upstairs while Alex has Janis sit on the couch for a bit. He brings over a first-aid kit, and tends to her swollen hand as Janis stares unseeingly at the TV.

 

“You kept your thumb out,” he comments quietly.

 

Janis looks down. He’s cleaned off the dried blood and is wrapping her hand in gauze. “Yeah,” she confirms in a hollow voice.

 

“Whoever taught you how to punch did it right,” he says kindly.

 

Janis taught herself, but isn’t going to tell him that. Instead she murmurs, allowing herself the tiniest grin, “I think I broke his nose. And his dick.”

 

Alex raises his eyebrows, then laughs. Janis shrugs. The guy yelled pretty loudly.

 

It’s definitely a sound Janis will never forget.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy pride month, friends ♡
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  sexual assault + abuse mention   
>  violence mention

The rest of the night goes by in brief stages. Janis is too tired to shower, so she cleans up the best she can at her sink. Then she wipes off her phone, since she got blood and smears all over it. Damian texted her an hour ago to send a link to an “ultra-rare” Vine compilation, and she plays it as she crawls into bed, hoping it’ll distract her.

 

She gets lost in YouTube after that, trying not to think about the obvious. She can’t believe she actually did that. Not the saving Regina or having a panic attack in front of her. She kicked that guy in the face and groin, and bashed his face with her now sprained hand.

 

The anger she felt, looking down at him as her fist collided with his nose and cheek again and again, is not exactly new to Janis. In all honesty, as tired as she is, she’s afraid to fall asleep—afraid of what she’ll be forced to relive.

 

Janis is familiar with violence. It’s a comfort, almost, the freedom and ability to punch a person when they’ve wronged her. She’s gotten into so much trouble over the years, lost families over it, for snapping like that. She beat up a foster brother at ten years old because he made fun of her for crying about Sharon since she missed her. She was sent back the next day.

 

The thing about tonight is that Janis wholeheartedly enjoyed kicking that guy’s ass. As livid as she was that he most likely drugged and then tried to assault Regina, Janis can’t say she’s at all sorry or even shocked at herself for getting so upset.

 

She can’t get the look on Regina’s face out of her head, the confused, dazed terror in her eyes when she saw Janis in the doorway. Janis thought all those times Regina has broken down or simply taken her makeup off were the most human she’d ever look. But then Janis came in on the worst moment of Regina’s life thus far, and Regina’s expression sickens Janis now that it’s crawling back to her, pieces at a time.

 

Janis wonders how much Regina will remember tomorrow. She hopes she can’t, not because it was the first time Regina really saw Janis vulnerable in return, but because Janis knows how a trauma like that can ruin your life. How the “almost” will drive you insane.

 

There’ve been lots of _almosts_ in Janis’s life. She wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.

 

Not even her worst enemy. Who really isn’t her enemy anymore.

 

Janis slips out of her room quarter to midnight, padding downstairs to say goodnight. Alex and Stephanie are talking in hushed voices in the kitchen, but Stephanie fixes a smile upon seeing Janis. “Hi, honey,” she says, hurrying over to her.

 

“I’m fine,” Janis tells her before she can ask, but accepts the hug nonetheless.

 

“How’s your hand, kid?” Alex inquires.

 

Janis flexes her fingers and winces. It doesn’t hurt as much thanks to the Ibuprofen she took, so she’s trying to savor it before it aches like a bitch tomorrow. “It’s alright. Thanks.”

 

She hugs him, too, grateful neither of them seem to be angry with her or Regina. Stephanie is watching her with big, worried eyes.

 

“Is Regina sleeping?” Janis asks, letting Henry kiss her chin.

 

“Yes, she’s been out since we came home,” Stephanie tells her, then sighs a weary sigh, and Janis has to fight back tears. She understands that sigh. Can feel its weight.

 

“Is she gonna be okay?” Janis murmurs, already figuring what the answer will be, but needing to say it anyway. “Like, tomorrow, I mean.”

 

“She’ll be hungover, that’s for damn sure,” Alex says, arm around Janis’s shoulders. It doesn’t bother her still, being this close to him. His intentions are always clear, and the biggest threat Janis faced for a month was Regina.

 

Janis feels compelled to say, “We got separated. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Stephanie replies instantly, and when Janis gives her guilty eyes she walks over and takes her firmly by the shoulders. “It’s nobody’s fault except for…whoever tried to do this to Regina.” Her voice wavers. This is every teenage girl’s mother’s nightmare.

 

It’s a shared experience whether anyone wants to admit it or not. This is what women and girls live in fear of every day, and for it to happen to Regina is traumatizing by proxy. Janis could’ve been the one on that bed, drugged out of her mind with that creep’s hands on her. She felt just as violated simply by taking one look at the situation.

 

She’s escaped similar things. Was kissed against her will once when she was eleven by some gross boy who lived in her neighborhood. With tongue and all. She hasn’t told anybody about it. Not even Sharon.

 

Because there’s shame on top of the fear and the hurt and the anger. There’s guilt. There’s an awful nagging voice consistently suggesting it was her fault, or she deserved it. That she’s only on this earth for the pleasure of boys.

 

Janis is ninety percent a lesbian because that’s just who she is. The remaining ten percent is because of all the men and boys in her life who’ve instilled those feelings.

 

“I’m glad you were there,” Stephanie is saying, hands on Janis’s face. “You saved her. You know that, don’t you?” Janis nods half-heartedly. “You were very brave, sweetheart. And we’re not mad at either of you girls for anything.”

 

Well, that’s reassuring. Janis didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that until now.

 

She says goodnight finally and heads back upstairs, taking Henry with her. She needs his little furry body close by tonight, just in case. She doesn’t know what to expect.

 

She burrows under the covers with Henry getting comfortable at her feet. It takes a while, and some instinctual resistance on Janis’s part, but she falls asleep half past one in the morning.

 

She isn’t surprised when she’s awoken around four by memories she’d rather forget. She rolls onto her other side, inviting Henry to come snuggle with her.

 

She’s shivering, but not because she’s cold.

 

* * *

 

Janis wakes up and stays up at nine that morning. Henry trots after her as she leaves the warm safety of her room and pads towards Regina’s.

 

She cracks open the door, peeking in to discover Stephanie asleep next to her daughter, both dead to the world. This is probably the calmest they’ve been while so close in a long time.

 

Janis’s throat is tight as she quietly walks away.

 

Sunday lags on like it has no plans to end. Janis is restless, going from the living room back to hers and returning again, napping from noon to two o’clock on the couch. Her head is so foggy it almost feels disconnected from her body.

 

Stephanie is awake by three, coming down and greeting Janis with a forehead kiss and asking if she needs anything. Regina keeps sleeping off whatever drug she consumed, though Janis hears her get up to use the restroom every now and then. Good, she’s alive.

 

Cady texts Janis around seven to check on her, asking where she’s been and if she’s okay. It’s surprising to Janis that Cady was bothered enough by her absence that she thought to ask.

 

Janis musters the energy to say she’s fine and just needs a day or two. She had a rough night and all. Cady says she completely understands.

 

Janis wonders what Cady is going to do now that Aaron and Regina are broken up. Granted, it was a few weeks ago, but Cady hasn’t mentioned Aaron at all, even when he came back after nursing his broken heart. Janis might give in to her nosy side and ask about him later.

 

After all, he is Cady’s crush. Janis can pretend to care for her sake.

 

Though she isn’t sure why she hasn’t asked already. Probably because she may have totally forgotten Cady has a crush on Aaron.

 

Which isn’t entirely Janis’s fault, it’s not like Cady is making sad, wistful puppy eyes in Aaron’s direction every day at lunch. Though how she behaves then and how she looks at the back of his head in calculus could be two very different things.

 

Janis hates the twinge of jealousy she feels, picturing how Cady looks at Aaron.

 

Regina emerges from her room twenty-four hours after the whole debacle occurred. She looks like a zombie, simply put, and Janis chokes on her soup when she shuffles in.

 

Stephanie goes to her, and she must still be super out of it, because they actually hug. Regina makes no move to pull away or act annoyed.

 

She needs her mother right now, whether she realizes it or not.

 

Something dawns on Janis then, and panic grips her chest like an uninvited hand. What if she has to go back because of this? They can’t keep this from Sharon, who’s going to visit again in a couple weeks. She wouldn’t be mad at Janis, but Janis engaged in a violent altercation, and historically that never ends well for her after the fact, no matter why it happened.

 

Regina gets a cup of cranberry juice and flops down on the couch beside Janis, who gives her the other half of her blanket. She looks even worse up close.

 

Janis is watching some show on MTV, but lets Regina change the channel. Regina turns on a recorded episode of the Kardashians, so that’s what they watch for forty-five minutes. Regina sips her juice, her phone lighting up beside her.

 

“Earth to Regina,” Janis murmurs eventually. “Your phone is beckoning you.”

 

“Hm?” Regina looks at it, checking her notifications, then scoffs and puts her phone facedown on the coffee table. “I don’t even know why I brought it with me. People are annoying.”

 

Janis then wonders what people are going to say when school starts again. People saw them; people watched Janis help Regina leave Karen’s house.

 

Janis doesn’t care, obviously. But Regina still might. Though maybe her situation will make her understand that Janis isn’t something to be embarrassed by, but rather proud of.

 

Janis isn’t expecting a thank you. She just wants Regina to finally stop acting like Janis’s mere existence brings great shame to the Georges.

 

They put up their tree last week, and Regina was exiled to her room the whole time. Janis flips through her phone, looking at the pictures she took to keep her mind off things. It was the most fun she had decorating a tree in years; before, she wouldn’t be allowed to touch anything, since other fosters were afraid she’d break stuff. Or she was in a time-out and couldn’t join the rest of the kids. It was isolating, and made Christmas difficult for her to enjoy.

 

But this year Janis was actually part of it, and had the chance to put the tree topper on. It gave her a ridiculous amount of satisfaction.

 

Alex and Stephanie have been asking her what she wants. She keeps telling them she doesn’t want anything, to which she receives the same look people on _The Office_ give the camera. It’s true, though—just the opportunity to still be here at Christmas is already the best gift. She has everything she needs. Clothes, her art, makeup, a functioning phone.

 

Though she wouldn’t mind new drawing pencils. But she isn’t going to tell anyone that. She still has to master asking for things without remorse.

 

Janis can only imagine what Regina wants. Probably Janis’s departure on Christmas Day.

 

With Janis’s fate somewhat in the balance, she just might get it.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Regina is feeling better, but has no interest in leaving her room. Janis’s hand is still sore, but the swelling has gone down, and is in the living room helping wrap presents with Stephanie when the doorbell suddenly rings.

 

Janis gets up to answer it, assuming it’s a delivery. But then she opens the door and is startled when she sees Karen Smith waiting on the porch, hugging herself for warmth.

 

“Oh, hi,” she chirps, smiling at Janis, who raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Is Regina here?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Janis replies, wondering if Karen knows. “But she’s napping right now.”

 

“Oh.” Karen’s face falls. “I’ve been texting her all weekend and she won’t respond, so me and Gretch were getting worried. Is she okay?”

 

“I guess so,” Janis admits, then asks in all seriousness, “Do you know what happened?”

 

The look on Karen’s face confirms she has no idea. “No, what?”

 

Janis steps out onto the porch, closing the door. “At your party on Saturday, was she with you and Gretchen at all?” she inquires, since Regina has yet to bring it up.

 

“Not really,” Karen says, confused. “I actually didn’t even know she was there. I invited her but she said she wasn’t sure if she could come.”

 

“Huh. Um, well, she was. So was I. Only because her parents said she could go if she brought me with her,” Janis explains, and Karen nods, unbothered that Janis was in her house.

 

“Okay, so, what’s wrong?” Karen asks, as if it isn’t obvious.

 

Janis chews her lip, arms folded in such a way that Karen has yet to see her bruised knuckles. “She was drugged, Karen,” Janis informs her in a low voice, and Karen gasps. “Some guy put something in her drink and took her upstairs. I went looking for her and…I found them. And if I hadn’t walked in, he would’ve—well, you know.”

 

Karen has a gloved hand over her mouth, but she looks nauseated. Then she closes her eyes and hides her face. “Oh my God,” she moans, and Janis gives her a minute to process. When she emerges, her eyes are damp, and she whispers, “Then what?”

 

So Janis produces her hand, and Karen’s jaw drops. She steps closer to look at it. “I punched him,” Janis tells her, trying to sound modest about it. “Well, actually, first I kicked him, then he tried to get me, so I knocked him down and messed up his face.”

 

“Whoa,” Karen breathes, and a new look of admiration enters her eyes. “I know she’s kind of mean and you guys don’t get along, but that’s really cool that you defended her.”

 

Janis shrugs, running her fingertips over her battle wounds. “Well, yeah. We’re not friends but I wasn’t gonna let her get raped.”

 

“Did you recognize him?” Karen asks. “Does he go to our school? I mean, it was open invite. I told people they could bring their friends from other schools.”

 

“I think he goes to ours,” Janis admits, and Karen’s shoulders slump. “I know. I could be totally wrong, though. It was dark and he looked like any other skinny white loser around here.” That coaxes a grin from Karen, and Janis returns it shyly.

 

“Well, maybe Regina will know,” Karen muses. “Like, if she remembers anything.”

 

“Yeah. She hasn’t talked about it yet,” Janis murmurs.

 

A heavy pause settles between them, then Karen sighs. “Okay. Well. I’ll go now. Let her know I dropped by and I hope she’ll be okay. And—” She hesitates, guilt settling in her big eyes now before she says, “And I’m really sorry.”

 

Janis shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault but his.”

 

Karen casts her doleful eyes to her feet. “I know. I’m glad…I’m glad you were there.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Janis says softly, and means it.

 

Karen leaves a moment later, waving to Janis as she climbs back into her car. Janis returns to the warmth of the indoors, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat.

 

* * *

 

Later, Janis brings up a mug of cocoa for Regina. She raps on the door and Regina makes a neutral sound. Janis goes in anyway.

 

Regina’s in bed, hair in a bun, watching something on her computer. She doesn’t groan when she realizes it’s Janis, and Janis classifies that as a little victory.

 

“Brought you cocoa,” Janis says, placing it on her nightstand. “You okay?”

 

“Why do you care?” Regina croaks, pausing her show.

 

Janis blinks at her, then folds her arms. “Because that’s who I am.”

 

Regina looks up at her with pondering eyes, but doesn’t say whatever it is she’s thinking. She sits up to take a sip of her cocoa, muttering a tiny, “Thanks.”

 

When Janis doesn’t leave, Regina gives her a look. “You want a parade?”

 

Janis smiles tightly. “No. But you’re welcome.”

 

Now she turns to leave, and is almost to the door when Regina calls her back. “Wait,” Regina says, and Janis does so. “Janis. Um. Wait.”

 

Janis wanders back over. Regina looks small all of a sudden, shadows under her eyes. It takes her a second longer to say, “Um. How’s your hand?”

 

“It’s fine,” Janis mumbles, waiting for the point.

 

Regina blows air out of her cheeks. “I remember in…bits and pieces. But I remember you and what you did. You were…vicious, Janis. You were snarling like an animal as you beat his face. Not that I’m complaining, it was actually pretty badass. But…I guess I just didn’t expect it. You sounded so afraid when you were helping me, like…I don’t know. Like you cared.”

 

“I did,” Janis says, shrugging. “You’re still a person. I wasn’t gonna let that happen to you.”

 

Regina’s eyes are swimming with unsaid words, but Janis can hear the gratitude in the ones she is saying. Regina isn’t even trying to hide it.

 

“Do you know what happened before?” Janis broaches cautiously. “Like, who he was? Wasn’t anyone looking out for you?”

 

Regina shakes her head, looking down. “No. I don’t even…” She closes her eyes and inhales. “It’s all kinda fuzzy. But I was alone with him.”

 

“Doesn’t make it your fault,” Janis insists. “Would…you recognize him?”

 

“I don’t know,” Regina whispers hoarsely. “I can’t even remember what his name was.”

 

“Karen came by earlier. She said it was an open invite, but…I thought he looked familiar,” Janis admits. “Sort of. So if he goes to North Shore—”

 

“So what?” Regina interrupts tearfully. “So what, Janis? If he does, it won’t matter. I don’t…plan on pressing charges. Because nobody’s gonna fucking do anything about it. The police won’t believe me. I can’t prove that he drugged or tried to rape me.”

 

“I was there,” Janis reminds her. “I beat his ass. He’s walking around with a busted nose and a black eye right now, if he saw me again he’d say I was the girl who intervened.”

 

“Yeah, and _you’d_ get arrested for assault,” Regina argues.

 

“But we’re two against one,” Janis insists, refusing to let this go.

 

Regina stares at her for a long moment. Then she says, “Yeah, two girls against one guy. Who do you think the police are gonna believe?”

 

She has a point. Janis bites her tongue, and Regina wipes tears away.

 

“Well. You didn’t deserve it,” Janis says quietly. She’s not hiding that she means it, either.

 

Regina doesn’t say anything else, so Janis actually leaves her be now.

 

It’s going to take a while, but eventually Regina will agree with her. Janis won’t stop assuring her until she does.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i just got a job! i’m going to try to still update consistently every week even if i work on saturdays ♡
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  attempted rape mention

After several difficult nights of restlessness and recurring nightmares, Janis is almost relieved when Cady texts her that Thursday to ask if she wants to go shopping with her.

 

Appreciating the burst of energy this gives her, she gets dressed and does her makeup for the first time since Saturday. She pops by Regina’s room on her way out to ask if she wants her to bring anything back; Regina is befuddled by the fact Janis thought of her, and says no. Her tone, at least, isn’t scathing.

 

Stephanie casually offers Janis a hundred and fifty dollars so she can shop, and Janis politely declines, saying she has money saved up. Stephanie waves her off and says, “That should be your money, just for you. I really don’t mind. Please, take it.”

 

She’s also had such a rough few days that Janis can’t deny the pleading in her sweet face, so Janis reluctantly pockets the cash and thanks her with a hug. They both hold on tight until she has to leave, since Cady’s mom is waiting.

 

The Herons’ car is in the street, a little ways away from the house, so Janis has to jog through the light snow to get there. She waves at Mrs. Heron as Cady pops open the back door for her to slide onto the cozy seat. Cady can’t drive yet, and must’ve asked her mom to not go up to the house directly. Janis hadn’t even considered that picking her up might be hard.

 

Cady squeals and hugs her. “I’m so excited, this is gonna be so fun,” she gushes, letting Janis go so she can buckle her seatbelt.

 

“How are you, sweetie?” Mrs. Heron asks, making a U-turn.

 

“I’m good, thank you,” Janis replies, as Cady practically vibrates beside her. “What about you? Have you guys put up your tree yet?” She’s nervous, so she’s chatty.

 

She doesn’t know when Cady started having this effect on her, but it bothers her that she can’t pinpoint it. Because that means she has no clue when she let herself betray her own rule.

 

No crushing on Cady. Janis had one fucking job.

 

Mrs. Heron turns up the radio per Cady’s request when her favorite Christmas song comes on, and it coincidentally happens to be Janis’s least favorite. So Cady belts it loud and proud while Janis theatrically pretends to be suffering a great deal til it ends.

 

When they get to the mall, Mrs. Heron lets them run free. She’ll do her own shopping, so Cady can text her if they need anything. Cady innocently slips her hand into Janis’s as they walk off, and Janis’s heart leaps and bounds.

 

They spend the next hour taking their time in several stores, mostly looking at things they want rather than what they intend to buy for others. Janis finished Cady’s portrait the other day, and started Stephanie’s right after. She has four more days to finish it and also do Alex’s, aiming to be done by the night of Christmas Eve. As for Regina’s present… Well. Inconclusive.

 

Janis hasn’t taken her mittens off yet, and doesn’t think twice about it when they sit down with the fresh-baked cookies they bought. Cady inhales sharply when she sees the discoloration of Janis’s knuckles, too late for Janis to hide her hand.

 

“What happened?” Cady hisses, eyes wide with horror. Janis fidgets uncomfortably. She knew she’d tell Cady at some point, but hadn’t planned on discussing it today.

 

“Ah—it’s fine,” she assures, for she’d let Cady very gently inspect her hand, purely to feel how delicate Cady’s fingertips are on her skin. Cady looks back up at her expectantly, and Janis is unsettled by the faint pity in her eyes that she probably doesn’t even know is there. Like she’s prepared to hear angry foster kid Janis got in a fight with someone. Which she technically did, but not entirely borne of self-defense.

 

“Me and Regina went to Karen’s house for a party on Saturday,” Janis tells her quietly. “This guy drugged her and took her upstairs, and when I found them… It would’ve been bad if I hadn’t. I beat up the guy and got Regina out of there. It was…awful.”

 

Cady stares at Janis, appearing vaguely nauseated. “Do…do either of you know him?”

 

Janis shakes her head. “It was dark. She was really out of it, and I’m still not sure.”

 

“Oh my God, Janis,” Cady whispers, putting her arms around her. Janis melts into the hug, and it _is_ rather comforting.

 

“Yeah, so,” Janis mumbles when Cady pulls away. “That’s why I haven’t been texting you.”

 

“It’s okay,” Cady assures instantly. “I get it. It was scary for you, too. How’s Regina?”

 

Cady doesn’t hesitate to ask, which shouldn’t surprise Janis as much as it does. Having beef with Regina doesn’t mean Cady wants anything like that to happen to her, either.

 

“She’s okay,” Janis says with a shrug, splitting a gooey cookie and handing Cady the other half. “Been super out of it, though. But she hasn’t yelled at me in five days, though, so that’s a win. She sorta…can’t treat me bad now. That’s not why I did it, though.”

 

“No, of course not,” Cady agrees. “I would’ve done the same.”

 

They eat their cookies in silence for a bit, people-watching and thinking the same thing. As evil as Regina can be, she most certainly did not deserve to be drugged and nearly raped. Nobody deserves that. And Regina isn’t really _evil,_ just…troubled. Her issues manifest themselves in a way that makes her a tyrannical bitch.

 

But she’s not a bad person. Janis doesn’t think so anymore. And maybe what happened gave her a bit of clarity, at least towards Janis. Maybe Janis won’t be such a punching bag to her now.

 

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” Cady ultimately says, her voice soft, almost sad.

 

“Me, too,” Janis replies, nudging her elbow to Cady’s to make her smile. She takes the chance to ask, wanting to give Cady something happy to talk about, “How’s Aaron been handling the big bad breakup? I know school got out last week, but. Up until then.”

 

“He seems alright,” Cady says, taken aback that Janis thought to ask. “I mean, we don’t really talk. We’re not friends. I don’t wanna be weird and act like I’m taking advantage of his breakup to get close to him. I did tell him I was sorry.”

 

Janis shrugs. “That’s not weird. I’m sure he appreciated it.”

 

Cady makes a face. “I don’t know. I wish I could talk to him like a normal person.”

 

“Then talk to him,” Janis encourages, and cannot believe her ears. She’s actually trying to push these two together. She would very much like to be the one to answer goodnight phone calls, hold hands like _that,_ give kisses on cheeks… You know, Taylor Swift kind of crap.

 

“How?” Cady begs, looking petrified.

 

“When school starts again, just ask him how his Christmas was,” Janis suggests. “Or whatever it is he celebrates. Holidays are good conversation starters.”

 

Cady chews the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. I guess so. Will that be enough time passed since Regina broke up with him, though?”

 

“Caddy.” Janis puts her cookie down to firmly grasp Cady’s shoulders. “You won’t know unless you try. And it’s not like you’re flat-out asking him on a date. You would just be asking how he’s been, that’s not code for anything. You gotta start somewhere, froggy. Take a leap.”

 

Cady rolls her eyes at the pun. “Oh, God. I hate you.”

 

“No you don’t,” Janis counters, cheesing real big.

 

Cady shoves the rest of Janis’s cookie into her mouth. “You’re silly. But you’re right, I guess. It wouldn’t be _illegal_ to say hi,” she finally admits.

 

“No, it wouldn’t,” Janis says around a mouthful of cookie. “And it’s not like he knows you have a crush on him. He’d just be talking to the nice girl who sits behind him.”

 

Cady fidgets on their bench, mulling this over in her head. “Yeah.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis says, nodding, and eats another cookie to avoid saying they should get married.

 

Jesus. She doesn’t know where all that came from. Does she hate herself that much?

 

They resume their shopping once their cookies are gone, meeting up with Mrs. Heron in Bath & Body Works just to check in. Janis actually winds up perusing the shelves in hopes to find a suitable gift for Regina, wanting to get _something,_ no matter how small. It’s out of obligation—she doesn’t expect anything from Regina.

 

She remembers seeing a candle on Regina’s dresser, so she winds up purchasing one called Rosewater & Ivy, figuring it’s a neutral enough scent. Regina can return it.

 

Cady doesn’t ask who it’s for. But she probably knows.

 

Janis also buys a mini perfume bottle for Stephanie, and cologne for Alex, figuring good things can come in threes. She’ll put these in all their stockings.

 

Stephanie put up Janis’s the day they got the tree, an extra one she had in a box. Janis hasn’t had her own stocking in a long time, and cried a little over it when she was alone. She hopes it can be there next year. If there’s a next year.

 

Janis wonders now what treasures she’ll find in it on Christmas morning, but naturally has the lowest possible expectations, always preparing herself for disappointment. It’s a base instinct; she feels she’s never lived a day of her life without waiting for shit to hit the fan.

 

She’s happy with her purchases, though, positive Alex and Stephanie will like theirs. Regina is obviously yet to be determined, as usual.

 

Cady drags Janis into Build-A-Bear despite Janis’s protests, feeling both too tall and too old to even look around. Cady admires the stuffed animals with childlike awe, and Janis looks at her with a similar amount of wonder. She’s just so freaking _cute._ Sixteen years old and still excited that a stuffed bear can wear a cowboy hat. Janis is smitten.

 

Ew. Gross. That’s disgusting. She most certainly cannot be smitten. Because next is falling in love, for real, and Janis won’t do that. She knows it isn’t a choice. But she _will_ fight it.

 

And yet she sees Cady eyeing a cream-colored bear and loses control of her mouth again to say, “Do you want that?” pointing to it when Cady looks at her.

 

“What, the bear?” she says, eyebrows raised, and Janis nods. “Oh, no, I’m just looking.”

 

“It can be your gift from me,” Janis insists, wholeheartedly serious, and Cady understands now that Janis meant she wants to buy it for her.

 

“Oh my gosh, no,” Cady says, stepping aside to make room for a mom with a stroller. “No, I’m not gonna ask you to do that. And it’s just a stuffed bear. I have tons.”

 

“You have Roary,” Janis argues good-naturedly. “Maybe the rest are in boxes in your attic, but I think Roary needs a friend. Don’t you agree?”

 

“Janis,” Cady says in a low voice, looking up at her with doubtful eyes. “You can’t do that.”

 

“Yeah I can,” Janis responds, unintentionally dropping her eyes to Cady’s lips then back up as she realizes her flub. “I can and I will. If you want the bear, let me get it for you.”

 

Maybe she’s overthinking it because she’s so intent on doing this for her friend, but there’s this unfamiliar tug in her gut, like a compass pointing to Cady, and she wonders if Cady feels it, too.

 

“I can buy it,” Cady tells her sheepishly. “You don’t have to waste your money on me.”

 

The way she says it, the way she looks down after, makes Janis think she’s said it before. To Regina, once upon a time. And that makes Janis angry, that Regina ever made this girl feel so undeserving of kindness from her own friends.

 

“It wouldn’t be a waste,” Janis tells her quietly. “It’s me treating you for being a good friend.”

 

Cady smiles a little. “I’m a good friend?”

 

“You’re a fantastic friend,” Janis swears. “So let me buy you the effin’ bear.”

 

Cady snorts, then reaches for an unstuffed one in the bin.

 

She gets it stuffed, actually “washes” it at the bathtub station, and then she and Janis get into it again over whether or not Janis can buy the bear some damn clothes.

 

“You’re gonna let him leave naked?” she teases, earning a look from a nearby mother. “Caddy. Bears need to wear pants, too. In order for this guy to be a productive member of society, he should own at least one pair of pants.”

 

Cady rolls her eyes, grabbing a Santa outfit off the rack. “You are so weird.”

 

Janis grins cheekily, following her to the check-out counter.

 

And that is how Cady Heron winds up carrying a Build-A-Bear box amongst her other bags for the rest of their shopping trip, Janis smirking with satisfaction.

 

It doesn’t feel like three hours has passed, but Janis can see it’s getting dark as she and Cady walk to the front of the mall, where Cady’s mom is waiting on a bench with bags of her own.

 

Janis doesn’t want this to end. It’s like time doesn’t exist here. The decorations and lights are breathtaking, and Christmas music plays consistently overhead. As crowded as it is, Janis has never felt the need to hide or escape.

 

That’s largely because of Cady. She feels safe with her.

 

The drive back to the Georges is quiet, but not in a tense way. Damian has been texting their group chat, sending pictures of his cat with no explanation, so they hype up the kitty with lots of exclamation points and heart emojis. Cady did invite him to come with them, but he’s home sick with a cold, clearly entertaining himself with a cat photoshoot.

 

“He’s so cute,” Janis murmurs, making one he took of him and the cat his new contact photo.

 

“I know,” Cady pouts. “I love him so much.”

 

“Same,” Janis agrees, and it’s true. She would quite literally die for Damian. (And his cat.) He’s also been so patient and kind to Janis, giving her time to come out of her shell. There’s never been any judgment from her friends for anything she’s chosen to keep to herself.

 

Janis watches Cady take a Snapchat of her and her new bear, who she literally named _Beary Christmas,_ and feels a pang of simple non-romantic affection for her.

 

No matter what happens (and Janis is determined to make sure nothing happens, because it’s not like she and Cady could stand a chance), Janis loves Cady for who she is as a person, for being her friend. And she feels the same for Damian.

 

Except Janis has a crush on Cady, and it’s obvious because she clearly doesn’t get butterflies when she thinks about Damian. And she knows it’s a crush, because lately her heart skips ten beats when Cady texts her first, or Cady laughs at the memes and jokes Janis sends her, and just how disgustingly warm and fuzzy Janis feels when she’s around her.

 

If she’s being honest, she’s probably felt this way from the start and only just now is realizing it isn’t platonic to feel those things for a friend.

 

But she won’t fall in love. She absolutely cannot, will not fall in love.

 

Looking at Cady now, though, Janis isn’t sure if she can keep that promise to herself.

 

She isn’t sure if she wants to.

 

* * *

 

Stephanie greets Janis at the door, opening it for her since she’s carrying bags. “Oh, my,” she exclaims, and Janis smiles, bending to peck her cheek in greeting.

 

“Hellooo,” she sings, putting her bags by the staircase.

 

“How was it? Did you have fun?” Stephanie asks, scooping up Henry.

 

“Yeah, we had a great time,” Janis says sincerely.

 

“She’s doing well?” Stephanie says next, her voice and face softening.

 

It takes Janis a second to realize she’s talking about Cady, and nods. “Yeah, she’s great,” she tells Stephanie, who looks relieved. Though it’s obvious, Janis forgot that Stephanie knew her. And she no longer gets updates on her daughter’s old friend.

 

Janis wants to ask if she knows what happened. She imagines she has to, given the severity of what Regina did. Mrs. Heron had to be involved at some point. Maybe a mom-to-mom spat over the phone. But Janis doesn’t feel like dredging up painful memories, and given how kind and sensitive Stephanie is, Janis definitely isn’t going to dampen the mood tonight.

 

Stephanie seems pleased with her answer, so she’ll leave it at that.

 

After heating up leftovers for dinner and watching an episode of some trashy reality TV show with Stephanie, Janis takes her presents upstairs. She hears pop Christmas music playing in Regina’s room, and actually smiles, pleased.

 

Later that night when nobody is in the kitchen, Janis slips the money Stephanie gave her back into her wallet. She didn’t have the heart to use a single dollar.

 

* * *

 

Janis can’t sleep that night, her brain at war with itself over anxiety and also fading adrenaline from hanging out with Cady. Janis wraps the stuff she bought as quietly as she can, wanting to put some things under the tree to coax Regina into a more Christmassy mood. As awkward as it may be on the morning of, Janis knows how it feels to spend the holiday cooped up alone in her room, and it sucks. Regina deserves to have a nice Christmas after what happened.

 

Janis might be going too soft on her, but the events of the party are still fresh in her mind.

 

Bad shit has happened to her around this time of year, so she doesn’t want Regina to be sad or alone. She doesn’t know how she managed to get to this point, but she cares, having been there to witness the scariest day of Regina’s life.

 

If it were her, she’d appreciate the effort. And she has—Sharon has done nice things just for her on Christmas, in the form of a little card or a pin for her customized jacket.

 

 _Do unto others as you would have them do to you,_ as the verse goes. Janis remembers one night when she was in a Christian household and the mother was reading her son and Janis a bedtime story from the Bible. Janis isn’t religious by any means, but that’s stuck with her. Even if it is occasionally difficult to live by and remember. In her life, sometimes being selfish is just masked self-preservation.

 

She sneaks down the darkened stairs to place the boxes under the tree, and slips the things she got at Bath & Body into the stockings like she planned. It feels good to give. A small token of gratitude for what these people have done for her in just two months. Even Regina, oddly enough. She and Janis might not ever be friends, but Janis’s patience and resilience has definitely strengthened from knowing her. And saving her from the party only reminded Janis she’s capable of protecting other people, even people she hates.

 

She hopes Regina would do the same for her if it came down to it. She can’t say she wouldn’t. But it’s a nice thought, to think Regina cares.

 

This would be what Damian calls _character development,_ and perhaps it is. Janis is growing—her heart has gotten bigger, making room for these people. Again, even Regina.

 

She didn’t think she’d get this far. And it’s strange that, for once, she doesn’t mind that she’s gotten attached. She isn’t sure why she’s not afraid, why she finally goes to sleep tonight with the belief that she actually belongs here to some degree.

 

She can’t yet call them her family. But a small part of her does. And she’s okay with that.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  attempted rape mention   
>  drugs/overdose mention

By noon on Christmas Eve, Janis has completed Stephanie’s painting, the last one on her list. Janis is keeping the rest in her closet, and props it up against the wall beside Alex’s. Hands on her hips, Janis admires her work, hoping her friends and fosters will be pleased.

 

The house smells like gingerbread and pine needles, and Janis breathes it in as she exits her room after getting dressed that evening.

 

Regina’s door is open, her music drifting out into the hall. Janis feels comfortable walking over, lingering outside but peering in. Regina’s at her vanity, making an effort to put on makeup, hair pulled back in a pretty high ponytail. She’s wearing a black turtleneck and beige slacks with an R-shaped necklace to accessorize, and she looks nice. She’s applying eyeliner, but looks up when she senses Janis’s presence.

 

“Hi,” she greets tentatively, and Janis waves shyly.

 

“Hi,” she echoes. “You look good.” She checks her own outfit, her best yellow dress with an army jacket on top, front pieces of her straightened hair clipped off her face.

 

“So do you,” Regina murmurs, and actually manages to smile. Janis grins back, feeling oddly validated by her approval, and heads for the staircase to give Regina privacy.

 

Stephanie makes Janis do a spin to show off her look. Janis polished her boots just for this.

 

Regina descends the stairs a few minutes later, before both her mom and dad have to yell for her to get a move on. Stephanie gives her the same treatment, and she gets embarrassed but spins as requested. Janis feels like she stepped into an alternate universe.

 

But it’s sort of normal when they both refuse to let Alex take a picture of them together.

 

When they climb into the backseat of his car, Janis can’t help but notice how skinny Regina is. Her arms are thinner than they were a month ago, and her porcelain face is slimmer. Her eyes aren’t as glittery as they used to be.

 

Janis doesn’t stare. She makes these observations within two seconds and looks away, going to buckle her seatbelt. Her stomach has suddenly dropped a thousand feet.

 

Regina is quiet as Alex drives through the neighborhood, and Janis takes pictures through the windows. She’s never seen so many decorations in her life, and she admires them with almost childish reverence. Alex drives to a couple other nearby neighborhoods, Janis taking Snaps to send her friends the entire time. Nobody tries to get Regina to engage; just her being here is a Christmas miracle. It’s best to not tempt the beast.

 

They walk through an outdoor mall to a restaurant for dinner, passing under arches decorated with lights and a huge twinkling tree in the center. Janis’s camera roll is going to be full by the end of the night, but she’s never seen anything like this. She’s also never been so joyful when it comes to anything Christmas-related.

 

A win for tonight, at the very least, is the fact Regina doesn’t look completely miserable. Janis falls into step beside her, and she watches with mild interest as Janis makes one of the photos her new phone background. Janis subconsciously waits for a snide remark that never comes.

 

They get a table at the Cheesecake Factory, Regina speaking for the first time tonight to ask if she can sit with Stephanie. There’s a pause as Stephanie’s eyes get big with surprise. Janis’s heart hitches in her chest at her expression. But then she says yes, and even Regina grins a little as she slides into the booth.

 

Regina didn’t bring her phone with her, which Janis finds interesting. She brought hers just to take pictures, but figured Regina had hers to distract herself from her family. But she sits quiet and seems content to listen to her parents and Janis banter back and forth.

 

When it comes time to order food, Janis can’t help but hold her breath. Regina asks for a soda and fettuccini alfredo, though, so maybe Janis underestimated her.

 

Dinner is fine, with zero drama between Janis and Regina. Janis really wasn’t worried about it happening again, but it’s still nice that Regina’s fork doesn’t end up in Janis’s eye.

 

Janis realizes as they’re leaving that she hasn’t been waiting for something to happen. There’s no pit of dread in her stomach, nothing that makes her feel like she needs to be ready for it all to go south. It’s like everything really is okay for once.

 

Until they get home and Stephanie starts shouting that Henry is gone. Then Janis sort of wakes up.

 

“The doggy door isn’t shut,” Stephanie wails, walking through the rooms in search of her little beloved terrier. Henry usually sleeps in his bed or on the couch when nobody’s home; he’s not outside, either, meaning he left through the unlocked doggy door then escaped the property.

 

Alex returns from inspecting the backyard to inform them there’s a hole under the fence. Janis chews her thumbnail, watching him comfort his wife.

 

“We have to go look for him!” she yells, hurrying back to the front door. “Regina, get flashlights and dog treats. Janis, can you call your friends, see if they can drive around here?”

 

“Steph, we can ask our neighbors to look out,” Alex tells her, waving a hand to Janis, who was ready to text Damian and Cady for help.

 

“Okay. Okay, you’re right. Oh, thank you, Regina.” Stephanie takes a flashlight and small treat bag from Regina. “Girls, can you go walk around together? I’ll go the other way and Alex, you just drive around real slow, okay? Okay, let’s go, he’s probably so cold…”

 

That’s how Janis and Regina end up walking side by side through the neighborhood they just admired a couple hours ago. Janis can hear Stephanie calling for Henry in the opposite direction, Alex’s car turning onto another street up ahead.

 

“That damn dog,” Regina mutters, retying her scarf then folding her arms for warmth. Now she’s starting to adopt her typical ice queen look.

 

“Do you even care?” Janis has to ask, because as much as she does not want to be out here, freezing her ass off as well, it’s because Henry shouldn’t be lost in the first place.

 

Regina takes a minute to answer. “No,” she finally says. “He’s mostly my mom’s dog, anyway. She hogs him all to herself, so he’s not really mine.”

 

“You still don’t care that she’s worried sick about him?” Janis wonders, disappointed Regina’s self-centered attitude is also making a comeback. Regina doesn’t respond to that, and Janis sighs, then starts shouting for Henry on her own.

 

She drifts to the other side of the street so Regina can half-heartedly look out for him on hers. Janis peeks around decorations and under porches and cars, hoping to find the dog with zero luck. She jogs back over to Regina to say, “Has he ever gotten out before?”

 

“No,” Regina says stiffly, to Janis’s dismay. She was hoping maybe he had in case there was a potential hiding spot he could be in right now.

 

“Why do _you_ care?” Regina is asking then, and Janis full on scowls.

 

“Because I love that dog, and so do your parents, even if you don’t,” she says. “God, Regina, I thought you had finally realized the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

 

She stalks off without Regina, who protests, “It doesn’t.”

 

Janis whips around. “Oh, yeah? Then quit acting like a spoiled brat and at least pretend to be the least bit concerned about your mom’s dog. It’s Christmas Eve, he’s missing, he’s probably cold and alone, and you need to get over yourself. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. If you need a reminder five minutes from now, you’ll get one. This time of year doesn’t accommodate selfish bitches like you. So start looking.”

 

She stomps away, boots getting scuffed again from how aggressively she walks. She’s angry, and cold, and frustrated. She really thought things were changing with Regina. She hates that she allowed herself to feel hopeful on that front. The one thing that’ll never get better.

 

Another chilly ten minutes pass with no luck. Janis shines her flashlight wherever she can, not bothering to look back for Regina. She can freeze for all Janis cares.

 

Janis is on a corner texting Stephanie and Alex when Regina unexpectedly ambles up to her. “I’m sorry,” she says in a strained voice, and Janis glowers at her. “Really, I am. I’m sorry. And I do care.”

 

“Prove it,” Janis says, slipping her phone back into her jacket pocket. “Get a move on and help me. Put other people before yourself for once, it’ll feel good.”

 

Regina flips her off, but begrudgingly follows her across the street. “I’m trying, Janis. I’m sorry. I just don’t have a lot of practice with it.”

 

“Then practice tonight,” Janis replies, patience running thin.

 

Regina huffs, cutting off whatever she was going to say, and it’s quiet for a few minutes. Then she’s piping up to say, rather unexpectedly, “I never thanked you for what you did.”

 

Janis stops walking and turns around. “No, you haven’t,” she agrees, suddenly soft. “You don’t have to, though. We never have to talk about it again.”

 

“I want to,” Regina insists, and her eyes are big, her face youthful and pleading. She looks so childlike, and it roots Janis to the spot. “I want you to know that I _am_ grateful. He would’ve—he was about to—if you hadn’t been there, he would’ve. And…I guess I didn’t think you’d do anything. When you walked in, I was so out of it, but saw it was you in the doorway. I thought I had to beg however I could for you to help me. But I didn’t have to, because a second later you were throwing yourself at him. You yanked him off of me, like… Not just because you didn’t want it to happen to me, but because you cared about me.”

 

Janis swallows hard. Yes, a part of her has grown to care for Regina. Because she puts all her faith in people who consistently let her down. Again and again and again.

 

“I haven’t known what to really say,” Regina murmurs. “But, I’m sorry. And thank you.”

 

“Don’t apologize,” Janis murmurs. “It wasn’t your fault. And I’m fine. Thanks.”

 

She keeps walking now, before Regina can ask how she’s handling it. She’s doing better than she was last week, and she doesn’t really matter in this equation.

 

They go their separate ways to search for Henry, and Regina actually makes an effort now. It’s like she has two different personalities these days.

 

Janis’s phone buzzes after a bit, and leans against a streetlamp in relief as she reads the text she just got. Alex found Henry and is driving back to the house now. She yells this to Regina, who pops up from searching a neighbor’s bushes to acknowledge her.

 

“Thank Christ,” she cries out sarcastically, stumbling down the driveway in her heels. Shaking her head, Janis begins trekking back the way they came.

 

She and Regina end up together again halfway there. Regina’s teeth are chattering, so Janis does the natural thing and puts an arm around her. Regina is tense at first, but appreciates the attempt at keeping her warm. They don’t talk the rest of the walk home, but perhaps it’s better that way. At least they aren’t fighting anymore.

 

When they get back to the house, the heat is welcomed. Stephanie is on the couch with Henry bundled in a blanket, and the little dog barks when he recognizes the girls.

 

“Where was he?” Janis asks Alex, leaning over the back of the couch to scratch his ears.

 

“Peeing on someone’s lawn,” Alex tells her, and Regina utters a laugh.

 

“Thank you girls for helping,” Stephanie says, patting Janis’s arm. Regina is already heading for the stairs, and nobody stops her. Janis watches her disappear up the steps, wishing she’d be happy about something for once.

 

Janis kisses Stephanie and follows Regina, determined to clear the air before Christmas itself. She’s not waking up tomorrow reluctant to leave her room.

 

She walks into Regina’s room without knocking. “We’re not doing this today.”

 

Regina jumps, startled. “Doing what? Leave me alone.”

 

“No.” Janis shuts the door behind her. “What’s going on? You’re fine all night, then you get all snotty, then you’re spilling your heart out.”

 

“What about it?” Regina mumbles, hanging up her coat. “God, Janis, it’s not that deep.”

 

“Except it is,” Janis insists. “Come on, I wanna try to have a pleasant Christmas for once. You owe me that much. I don’t wanna be afraid of what you’re gonna do tomorrow.”

 

“What I’m gonna _do_?” Regina repeats incredulously. “You make it sound like I have some evil anti-Christmas agenda. I’m just gonna sleep. So you and my parents can enjoy your happy Christmas without me ruining it.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Janis argues. “I just…want you to be okay. Because you’re not. But you were trying tonight, up until we had to look for Henry.”

 

“Because we were out in the cold looking for that stupid dog,” Regina snaps. “Forgive me for not being too freaking happy about that.”

 

Janis rubs her temple, so badly wanting their constant feuding to end. “Regina—”

 

“No, listen.” Regina deflates, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “I kinda hate Christmas. So I don’t give a shit about tomorrow. I want—I really want you to have a nice day or whatever, so I’ll just…stay out of everyone’s way. I know I used to say really bitchy stuff about you not still being here by now, and I’m sorry about that. I’m glad you _are_ still here, and so are they.”

 

She swipes at her eyes, ready to overflow with tears. She looks seconds away from having a breakdown, and honestly, it’d be understandable. She shrugs, concluding, “So. This is me putting you guys first. I won’t bother you tomorrow.”

 

“Regina, that’s not what I’m saying,” Janis insists softly. “I want you to come down and join us and open presents. So you _can_ like Christmas for once.”

 

“I don’t want to,” Regina whispers. “Christmas hasn’t been good in a long time and I’m sick of it. I hate this time of year. So the more I sleep, the sooner it’ll finally be over.”

 

She walks to her vanity as she speaks, flopping down in her chair so she can begin removing her makeup. “I really don’t care, Janis. Christmas isn’t a big deal. I’ll open my stuff whenever, I just wanna sleep and not make everyone sad.”

 

“You don’t make us sad, we’re just walking on eggshells around you,” Janis points out. “It’s exhausting, Regina. If you just talked to your parents about what’s bothering you—”

 

“I’m not gonna fucking talk to _them_ about how I was almost raped,” Regina snarls.

 

“Then don’t!” Janis yells. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to or if you’re just not ready. But there’s other shit you could get off your chest, and you should. You can’t keep stuff bottled up, because this is what happens. You lash out at people.”

 

“Yeah, people who can’t mind their fucking business,” Regina says, crying now. “You don’t know when to stop, do you? Just leave me the hell alone. Go to bed. Wait for Santa. I don’t care. But you can’t help me. You can barely help yourself.”

 

Janis bristles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Regina glares at her, wiping foundation and tears off her cheeks. “You still don’t know that you have bad dreams? You cry in your sleep. A lot more recently since the party, and I’m not even gonna ask what that’s about. And you’re trying so hard to help me all of a sudden because it’s killing you that you don’t have a purpose. I mean, neither do I. But now you’re fixated on being my guardian angel or some shit, like you don’t wanna work on your own problems.”

 

“I—Jesus Christ.” Janis’s head actually hurts. “Regina. I’m fine. I’m not the self-centered diva who needs extensive therapy.”

 

“Maybe not, but you need to just leave me alone,” Regina insists tearfully. “You can’t help me, Janis. I don’t want your help. And I don’t need you to care about me now. You saved me from that guy, but that’s it. We’re still not friends.”

 

“I didn’t say we had to be,” Janis murmurs. “I just want to be sure that when I leave, your mom and dad will have their daughter back. I can only fill the void you’ve created for so long.”

 

“That I created?” Hair down, face makeup-free and blotchy, Regina narrows her eyes at Janis. “Are you forgetting that little convo you had with my mom? About the divorce? My actual dad? I didn’t fucking create this void, they did. I’m collateral damage.”

 

“And I’m what, exactly?” Janis fires back. “I’m a foster kid. My mom left when I was a baby, and then my dad died of an overdose. I became a foster because my grandma couldn’t take care of me anymore. I didn’t ask for any of that to happen, just like you didn’t ask for your parents to get divorced or your mom to get remarried. You’re not the only person with family problems, Regina. We’ve _both_ been collateral damage.”

 

That settles slowly. They stare at each other, Regina reeling closer to her breaking point, if she hasn’t already reached it. She grits her teeth and looks away.

 

“And I do care,” Janis mutters. “Whether you like it or not. I’ve seen the real you. Even though you haven’t been all that nice to me, I guess I can’t help but feel bad for you. So forgive me for wanting to do a good thing. To help someone how I’d want to be helped. My life has been this never-ending rollercoaster of bullshit, and I finally have something good here. I don’t expect it to last, obviously, but…I’m here for now, so I’m gonna make the most of it.”

 

“Don’t waste it on me,” Regina begs thickly. “You aren’t gonna get anywhere.”

 

“Well, I kinda have, so,” Janis deadpans. “I know too much about you for you to make things go back to the way they were when I got here. And no, none of what you’ve said to or about me or my friends will ever be okay. But I think you know that. And some part of you wants to do good, you just don’t know how. And I’m _not_ here to fix you or piece your broken family back together. But that doesn’t mean I have to stand for your shit.”

 

She bends down, leaning on the corner of Regina’s vanity. “I’m not gonna let you trample me just because you’ve got issues, too,” she says in a low voice. “We’ve been over this. Actions have consequences. And I choose mine very carefully. And if you ever wanna talk about stuff, my room’s right down the hall. I won’t tell your parents. Still haven’t told them anything about the things you used to do. So, merry fucking Christmas.”

 

She calmly leaves then, closing the door. Not a resolution or the end to that conversation she wanted to have, but it bears repeating. Regina is angry, traumatized, and frustrated. But so is Janis, and she’s just trying to survive however she can. She remembers when she thought her only reason for being here was to do what she’s doing now, but she’s choosing to get through to Regina. Not out of obligation. Because she sees something in her worth saving.

 

If it were her, she’d want to feel worth it, too.

 

They’re running in circles, chasing each other faster and faster with no end in sight. Janis has to keep going, because this family is different than the rest. She loves Stephanie. She sees a mother in pain, missing her daughter but still making enough room in her heart for Janis. And Janis meant it when she said she wants them to be okay when this all falls apart—to feel like she made a difference in _their_ lives.

 

She’s not here to fix anybody. Mostly she just wants Regina to know she’s not alone. But also that treating other people—your family—like shit isn’t a coping mechanism. She can be hurt, she can be angry, but there’s plenty of ways to deal with it that don’t involve lashing out.

 

Later when Janis goes to say goodnight, she hugs Stephanie a little tighter.

 

She’s looking forward to tomorrow, with or without Regina. If Regina doesn’t want to be a part of it, that’s her decision. If she doesn’t like Christmas, that’s fine.

 

Janis has enough strength to be the both of them for Regina’s parents.

 

Everybody hurts. And Janis will try again tomorrow.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can’t believe we’re halfway through! 17 more to go. thank you for supporting this story so far ♡
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  child abuse mention   
>  homophobia mention   
>  abusive father

Janis awakes with a start on Christmas morning. She was caught in one of those dreams that are horrible and twisted and scary right up until you wake up, and can’t remember anything so you’re left unsettled and feeling out of place.

 

It’s barely eight in the morning, so she lays in bed for a while longer. She sends an obnoxious amount of holiday GIFs to her friends so they’ll have that from her when they wake up. She’s going to give them their paintings as soon as she can, giddy at the thought.

 

Janis figures ten-thirty is an appropriate time to get up, so she leaves her room in her slippers. She hesitates while passing Regina’s room, wanting to see if she’s awake yet. But nobody can force Regina to participate in Christmas, so Janis keeps walking. She plans on talking with her again sometime today. She hates how they left things, aiming to bury the hatchet once and for all. For both her sanity and Regina’s.

 

There’s even more presents under the tree when Janis walks in, and the stockings are bulging over the fireplace. She slips her presents inside, grinning like an idiot. She never gets the chance to actually give people things.

 

She’s looking for a TV channel that plays Christmas music when Stephanie and Alex shuffle in wearing their robes, and Janis leaps over the back of the couch to hug them. She hasn’t been this excited about Christmas in literal years and she isn’t even sure why—her foster sister (she uses the term “sister” loosely) probably still has it out for her and Janis’s attempts at salvaging this holiday for Stephanie’s sake might be in vain because of their fight last night.

 

At this point she just wants Regina and Stephanie to get along more than Regina and herself. They were all getting somewhere after what happened at the party, but Regina is the type who withdraws when things start changing.

 

Janis understands what that’s like, she really does. Which lessens her frustration considerably, as it usually does when she compares the two of them.

 

“Regina’s still asleep?” Stephanie asks, peering in the direction of the staircase, likely wishing for her daughter to appear. Grumpy and bleary-eyed, but present at the very least.

 

Regardless, they make themselves comfortable in the living room, Janis passing out stockings first. She puts hers in her lap, wanting to watch them open what she got them. Naturally, it’s an instant tear fest, and Stephanie thanks Janis over and over while kissing her blushing face. It’s probably kind of cathartic to be able to express this much love and gratitude towards someone without them pushing her away in disgust.

 

Realizing that just about breaks Janis’s heart in two. She’s so very glad she’s still here. Even if she isn’t _meant_ to take Regina’s place, there’s a difference between that being their intentions for fostering her and Janis doing her best to make Stephanie feel like a good mom.

 

Not just good, but lovable. She’s trying so hard to keep her family together. She is a mother in search of her own child who is lost inside herself; a mother who has lots of love to give and is overjoyed to have Janis around to share it with.

 

It’s not her job to validate these people. But the joy on Stephanie’s face makes all this shit with Regina worth it. And Janis is actually rather proud of herself for sticking it out.

 

Their stockings are mostly full of candy, and Janis is happy they know her favorites by now. It’s like Halloween except she’s getting her candy two months late. (She had the bittersweet honor of chaperoning the little kids at the group home as they went trick-or-treating, but wasn’t going to ask anyone to share with her.)

 

At the bottom of her stocking is a small box tied with a little red bow, and Stephanie claps as it emerges in Janis’s hand. Janis tugs off the ribbon and lifts the lid, holding her breath, then lets out a surprised laugh. A tiny silver ring is nestled in the black velvet, a heart with a bow accent above it. Instantly she’s choking back tears as she removes it, holding it up to look at it.

 

“You wear a lot of rings,” Stephanie says delicately. “All of them seem special to you, so… We thought maybe you’d like one from us.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis whispers, chewing her lip to keep from crying. She slips it onto her pointer finger, and loves how it looks on her hand. It’s cute and kind of Christmassy because of the bow, and the heart clearly means something to all of them. She never plans on taking it off.

 

They begin passing out gifts then, Janis ending up on the floor to collect the wrapping paper. It makes her feel like a child, sitting in this sea of color.

 

Janis begged them not get her anything that was too expensive, and they respected her wish. She gets new tights, a makeup kit, and plenty of cool shirts with designs on them. Alex got her a new sketchpad as well, since the one she has is running low on blank pages. She also gets one of those throw pillows with the sequins that manually change color, and a couple flannels. She hasn’t outright told them she’s gay, but wonders if they’ve picked up on anything. Which is not nearly as terrifying as it used to be.

 

Janis is overwhelmed by their generosity, but keeps it together. She can cry on the phone with Sharon later. This is the first Christmas in two years she hasn’t spent at the home.

 

Regina never comes down, and nobody thinks to wake her. Her beautifully wrapped presents stay under the tree, and Janis’s heart clenches looking at them. Her parents love her so much. They just want her to be herself again. Obviously you can’t buy your way into someone’s heart but Janis thinks they all deserve to be with each other today.

 

So she trudges upstairs around one, just to see if she’s awake. She knocks on the door, Henry wagging his tail in his eagerness to go in. He seems perfectly fine after last night’s ordeal.

 

“What?” comes Regina’s scratchy voice, and Janis rolls her eyes, opening the door. Regina is still in bed, evidently having just woken up, and is on her phone. She makes a face when she sees it’s Janis standing in the doorway.

 

“Merry Christmas, Miss Scrooge,” Janis drawls as Henry sniffs around, none the wiser that his other blonde master doesn’t care about him that much. (Janis calls bull on that, honestly.)

 

Regina flips her off. “And a happy new year.”

 

Janis snorts, but goes over to Regina’s bed and invites herself up. Regina, surprisingly, has no qualms with that, not even when Janis flops down on her pillows and gets comfortable. Regina pays no attention to her, begrudgingly resigned to the fact Janis can’t mind her business.

 

It’s quiet for a bit. Henry curls up on a nearby rug and Janis stares up at the canopy. It takes a while for her to say, “I’m not trying to fix you.”

 

“What?” Regina looks at her, but she doesn’t make eye contact yet.

 

“I’m not trying to fix you,” Janis repeats. “Or your parents. I’m here because they’re fostering me. But I have to live with you. And there’s a pretty big difference in me wanting you to be fake happy and me trying to make you not be so mean to yourself and other people.”

 

Regina grits her teeth but doesn’t respond. Now Janis sits up, laying against the pillows. “You know you’re a bitch,” she continues bluntly. “And I know _why_ you’re a bitch. Me calling you out over and over isn’t an attempt to make you forget what made you like this. It’s so you know it’s damaging to others when you act like your problems are the only ones that matter, that you’re not responsible for how you treat people.”

 

Regina puts her phone down, still not talking. Janis can see the guilt etched in the lines on her tired, bare face, reminded yet again she’s a real human person.

 

But everyone around her are real human people, too. Not punching bags or puppets.

 

“I’m not saying you have to let it go,” Janis murmurs, fiddling with her new ring. “I’m not saying you have to put on a show so your parents won’t worry. I know what that’s like. I’m a master at fake happy, Regina. I’m a foster kid, I kinda have to be. But even though I’ve been through lots of bad shit, I think I’m still a nice person. I don’t walk all over people like you do. I deal with my shit in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone.”

 

“Your art?” Regina whispers, and sounds genuine, not critical.

 

“Yeah,” Janis agrees. “My art. When I started going to therapy as a kid, I’d color and draw and stuff during sessions. So then I went to actual art therapy and it helped. I’m better at it now but it’s a good distraction when I’m upset. And it doesn’t hurt anybody. And if I need to talk about it then I call my case worker. If it’s really bad, I’d ask to see someone again. But I haven’t had to do that in a while. And I’m on meds. They don’t erase anything, just make it easier to live with.”

 

“I didn’t know that,” Regina admits a little sheepishly.

 

Janis shrugs. “Yeah. I’ve been on them since I was around thirteen. They’re mostly for anxiety. Because my anxiety makes me feel weird and then I get paranoid and I lash out.”

 

Regina sits now, running a hand through her hair. She processes that for a minute, looking like she wants to ask questions but unsure how to do it without sounding mean. Baby steps, Janis reminds herself. At least she’s listening.

 

“And for the record, I was on them when we went to the party,” Janis tells her, and she raises her eyebrows. “I lost my shit because it was triggering. And I was angry for you.”

 

Janis can practically see the unasked _triggering, how?_ question in Regina’s eyes, but Regina’s not going to voice it.

 

Janis exhales, surprised to discover bringing that up isn’t too hard. “Anyway. Moral of the story: bad things have happened to me, too. And I’m angry about it. I’m so fucking angry all the time, Regina. I’m angry that people haven’t been kind to me, that I’ve been made to feel like I’m…a waste of space. I don’t here. But I’ve been in thirteen houses because people realize I’m too much for them to handle without grasping that I’d get so angry and violent because they were doing things that hurt me. Your parents aren’t like that. But enough people have been that I’m still waiting for the ball to drop. For something really awful to happen and I get sent back.”

 

She pauses to catch her breath, chest aching. She rubs it unthinkingly, and Regina follows the motion of her hand, also seemingly noticing her ring.

 

“So,” Janis says, to conclude. “I get it. People are terrible. Kids get hurt. And nobody ever says sorry or faces the consequences. We _are_ collateral damage, Regina. And it sticks with us. But I don’t wanna let what other people did to me make me incapable of being a good person who makes her own choices. I’m not gonna let their shitty behavior influence mine anymore. Which is why I went to therapy and why I’m on meds.”

 

Regina nods her understanding. “Yeah. I’m…I’m sorry. About all that.” Janis looks at her for clarification. “For…whatever people have done to you,” Regina explains. “More foster parents should be like mine. Like, actually care about you.”

 

“Yeah. They do. It’s nice knowing they probably wouldn’t kick me out if I told them I’m gay.”

 

Regina’s eyes get big. “That’s happened?”

 

Janis sighs. “Yeah. A couple times,” she murmurs, and leaves it at that. Regina doesn’t push it or even look disappointed.

 

They’re quiet for a bit, thoughtfully so. The smell of cookies and cinnamon drifts down the hall. It’s warm in Regina’s room, but being so close to her isn’t as stifling as it usually is.

 

At one point Regina says, “I don’t care that you’re gay, either.”

 

Janis scoffs. “You called me a dyke the day I moved in.”

 

Regina’s face pinches with remorse. “Yeah,” she mutters uncomfortably. “Yeah, I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have…I never should’ve called you that, Janis. I’m sorry if I’ve…that I’ve ever made you feel unsafe. As for when I walked in on your club thing, I shouldn’t have done that, either. I think about it a lot. All their faces…” She tears up and swallows hard. “I just like attention. Way too much. No matter what kind. And I like…feeling better than everyone. I _need_ to feel like I’m better than them. That _I_ have the power.”

 

Her hand tightens on her sheets. Janis is quiet; it’s her turn to speak.

 

“But then I’m trying to sleep at night thinking about stuff I’ve done,” she whispers. “And I don’t feel that powerful after all. You’ve been right about everything. I’m insecure, so I make others feel insecure. I’m angry, so I piss off other people. I really don’t get anything out of it anymore. But I…don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to change it. It’s like I’m addicted; I know it’s bad but I can’t stop.”

 

“This is a good start,” Janis encourages her. “Admitting you have a problem. Your mistakes. It matters, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

 

“Yeah,” Regina says. “There’s just…so much I don’t talk about with anyone. I want to but I just don’t feel like I can talk to people. I’ve turned myself into this careless monster. So if I went to the school counselor or my mom or whatever, I’d be admitting I’m weak. And I already know I am, so I don’t want others to see me when I’m weak. Or know why I’m so mad.”

 

Janis shrugs. “You can tell me. I’m kind of an impartial third party.”

 

Regina snickers, swiping at her eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. You wouldn’t tell anyone, at least…”

 

Janis shakes her head to assure her she wouldn’t breathe a word.

 

“Right.” Regina crosses her arms. “It’s predictable as fuck, but it started with my dad. My first dad. Before the divorce. He was always super distant and weird. Like he wasn’t happy with his life or his family. I was normal back then, if you could believe it. Sometimes I think about who I used to be and wonder what the fuck happened. Like, why can’t I still be that person? I was so dumb and happy and innocent. I was a kid.”

 

Her voice cracks a little. She visibly edits out parts of the story before she continues. “But then the divorce happened. And it was like my entire life was just…over. I thought my mom getting remarried would fix things, and Alex is cool and a good dad and all, I just…can’t get over what my old dad did. I never see him anymore. I have no contact with him. He sends child support money, but that hardly counts. It’s like me and Mom don’t exist to him now.”

 

She’s absentmindedly scratching her arm, picking at her elbow. Janis senses it’s an old habit, dredged up with all these memories.

 

“And that makes me angry,” Regina whispers, looking straight ahead, unseeingly at the wall. “I hate him, too. I really fucking hate him. Sometimes I wanna call him, just to scream at him. To take it out on him for once. Because he deserves it more than anyone. But then I go to do it and I just get scared. Because what if he picks up the phone? I think about it so much but then I couldn’t handle it actually happening. What if he’s remarried, too? What if he has other kids? Another daughter? And what if he’s good to her and good to his new wife? Why do they get to have him when he’s good, but my mom and I didn’t?”

 

She sniffs, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “What did we do to deserve him at his worst, but this hypothetical new family gets to know him at his best? I’d fucking kill myself. Not really, but…you know. And sometimes I wanna call him and for that to be true, so it’ll hurt me. Like I deserve to be in pain over him still. Which is weird and fucked up.”

 

“Purposely putting yourself in uncomfortable or hurtful situations can be a form of self-harm,” Janis informs her after a moment, and she looks at her. “I used to start fights all the time. Not because I wanted to be removed from wherever I was living, but because I thought I deserved to be rejected. I would do stuff on purpose to make people get mad at me. So they’d hit me or punish me or just send me back. As a kid I didn’t understand why I did it on purpose, and that freaked me out. Therapy helped me with that.”

 

Regina nods. Janis doesn’t hesitate to take her hand. “So, I understand, Regina.”

 

Regina sniffs again, and her voice is strained when she speaks again. “I’d go to therapy, but I just…it scares me. I don’t wanna be psychoanalyzed. I don’t wanna be pitied. And if I went, it’d mean I’d have to learn to…learn how to be without those feelings. That anger. I’ve been angry for so long I don’t know _how_ to live without it. And I don’t think I want to. Because the anger is who I am now. It sucks, but I can’t give it up.”

 

“Then don’t,” Janis says simply. “Nobody’s gonna tell you to stop being angry. That really isn’t the point I’ve been trying to make. You can be angry all you want. You just have to figure out how to not let it consume you so much. You’re allowed to be mad, you just can’t let it manifest itself the way it does.”

 

Regina bites her pinkie nail, appearing childlike, all her emotion heavy in her eyes. She nods slowly, hand tightening around Janis’s. Clinging to her.

 

“I used to think I’d only ever be angry,” Janis murmurs. “Sometimes I still do. But I’m way more than my anger and trauma and the things that made me like this. And so are you.”

 

Regina looks doubtful. Normally Janis would assume she’s trying to trick her, but Janis doesn’t think she’s lying at all. She sees too much of herself in Regina to be wary.

 

“Where would I even begin?” Regina asks anxiously.

 

Janis smiles and pats her hand. “You already have.”

 

* * *

 

It comes as an obvious surprise to Regina’s parents when the girls come down the stairs hand in hand a few minutes later. But Regina accepts her mother’s hug, and then Alex’s. She smiles shyly when she sees the leftover presents under the tree.

 

Janis makes herself a cup of cocoa as Regina tentatively starts opening them. Stephanie sits with her but Alex wanders into the kitchen to say to Janis, “How’d you get her to come down?”

 

Janis shrugs, sipping her cocoa. “We just talked. Girl stuff, you know.”

 

“I don’t,” he says, and they both smile. “But, good for you. I was afraid she wasn’t going to join us.” He sighs. “You having a good Christmas?”

 

Janis nods, and wordlessly hugs him to express her gratitude.

 

The kid Regina used to be gradually makes a reappearance, her face softening and her smile becoming genuine. She holds up the candle to acknowledge she opened it, and Janis grins. It reminds her that she has yet to give Alex and Stephanie their paintings, but decides to do that later, maybe once Regina returns to her room. Janis didn’t make one for her and now that they talked it out, she’ll feel bad for excluding her.

 

Alex goes to sit with his wife, and Janis looks out the French doors at the patio. It’s snowing, a cool sight to see on Christmas no matter how old you are.

 

Janis watches the Georges together and rather than feeling sad or out of place, it makes her happy to see Regina be pleasant and laughing with her parents, her mom in particular.

 

They all deserved a happy Christmas. And it hasn’t been fake for any of them.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you ever doubt my commitment: i took an early morning shift so i could be home on time to update. yes, it is that serious.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  sexual assault mention

The rest of the day is peaceful and calm, as it should be. Regina goes to shower after dinner, so Janis takes the opportunity to bring down the paintings, heart thumping nervously. She has never given anyone something she painted (that doodle of her and Sharon doesn’t count since it’s Sharon and she’s kept a lot of Janis’s artwork), let alone her fosters. So when she walks in, she tells them to sit on the couch and close their eyes.

 

She didn’t have anything to worry about, because Stephanie starts crying tears of joy and her husband even looks emotional as he admires the watercolor of himself. Stephanie hugs Janis multiple times, thanking her repeatedly.

 

Janis decides to be upfront about why there isn’t one for Regina, telling them she didn’t think it would be received well. “She liked the candle, though,” Janis acknowledges, shrugging. “She’s just not really an artsy person. But I’ll paint her one if she wants me to.”

 

Stephanie touches her chin. “She’ll understand why you didn’t. I’m sure she appreciates what you did get her,” she assures, which makes Janis selfishly wonder if there is a chance Regina has a gift for Janis somewhere. Probably not.

 

Janis takes her gifts upstairs and is hanging up her new shirts when Regina walks in. “Hi,” her voice greets from the doorway, and Janis exits her closet to see what she wants. Regina looks uncomfortable, more out of nerves than anything. She’s holding something behind her back, to Janis’s cautious delight and surprise.

 

“I, uh. Got you something.” Regina steps forward to offer a wrapped medium-sized box, and Janis takes it gently. “You can open it whenever. If you don’t like it, I have the receipt.”

 

They both had the same line of thinking. Funny how that works.

 

“Thanks,” Janis says, taking the hint that Regina wants her to open it after she leaves.

 

Regina nods awkwardly, then exits the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Janis goes to sit at her desk, turning down her Christmas music to unwrap the box. She’s not even a little bit hesitant, like it’ll be one of those prank gifts.

 

Then her smile is taking up her whole face. It’s a new set of paintbrushes, and while that’s all it is, it’s something she both wanted and needed.

 

And Regina knew that somehow. She must’ve noticed Janis’s current brushes are crappy and old. It doesn’t matter when, the fact she thought to get Janis new ones means everything.

 

She calls Sharon a little while later, running her thumb over the bristles of a brush. “Hey,” she says when the line picks up. “Murry Crapmas.”

 

Sharon laughs out loud. God, how Janis misses that sound. “Merry Christmas, Janis,” Sharon responds warmly. “How are you, sweetie? How’s your day been?”

 

“I’m good. It’s been nice,” Janis says honestly, and Sharon can hear the sincerity in her voice. “I miss everyone, though. How are they?”

 

“Well, they were happy when I dropped by yesterday to help deliver gifts from the toy drive,” Sharon tells her. Janis helped out with the drive last year, since it’s mostly for the little kids. Older ones usually are gifted clothes and books. “I’m sure they had a blast opening them today. I’m with my sister and her family right now.”

 

Guilt shoots through Janis like someone stabbed her with an icicle. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have called if I knew—”

 

“No, I’m glad you did,” Sharon interrupts gently. Sometimes Janis forgets Sharon has a family; she just assumed Sharon was spending the day with the kids. She isn’t sure why she thought that. Sharon didn’t do that even when Janis was at the home.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Janis says quickly. “You can go be with them. I’m sorry to bother you.”

 

“You aren’t bothering me,” Sharon insists in a kind but firm voice.

 

“Yeah, but—it’s fine, I’ll see you on Saturday,” Janis reassures. “Sorry. I dunno what I thought. We’ll talk when you come to see me. Bye.”

 

She doesn’t give Sharon a chance to protest. She hangs up and mutes her phone, wanting to avoid making things even more awkward. It’s fine—they’ll catch up in four days.

 

She isn’t sure why her chest is so tight, or why her good mood is dissipating so fast. She feels terrible for calling even though she couldn’t have possibly known Sharon was with her family—and she knows Sharon wouldn’t have answered if she was busy, but Janis still feels bad about it. Once she feels guilty, she can’t shake it.

 

As do most feelings when you’re a foster kid who’s used to being made to regret everything.

 

She mostly just hates the reminder that she isn’t part of Sharon’s family. That she couldn’t just go spend Christmas with her and it not be weird or against the rules.

 

This is why she doesn’t like getting attached.

 

* * *

 

The day before Sharon’s visit, Janis and her friends convene in Cady’s basement for the “best mini Christmas party” of the year, per Cady’s description. Damian picked Janis up, not looking at the paintings when she climbed into his truck.

 

“Who are those for?” he’d drawled knowingly.

 

“Dumb and dumber,” Janis deadpanned, buckling her seatbelt. He snorted.

 

Now they’re propped up against the back the couch, out of sight.

 

The trio clink their shot glasses of eggnog together, then drink up. “Shit’s disgusting,” Damian gags, and Cady claps him on the shoulder.

 

“Woman up,” she teases, pouring herself and Janis another shot.

 

This already seems like Janis’s kind of party.

_Jingle Bell Rock_ blares over the speakers as they jokingly try to dance. There’s a teeny plastic tree on a nearby table, with lights that change color, and Damian films Cady’s dog trying to eat the reflections of the colors on the wall. Janis thinks Cady spiked her own eggnog, because of how hard she’s laughing over Simon’s antics.

 

She’s standing on Janis’s feet, their hands clasped, and Janis keeps swaying them even while Cady laughs herself to tears when Simon all but throws his yellow body at the wall.

 

It’s easy to pretend she’s looking at her and Janis’s kid as they slow dance at a holiday party. Janis doesn’t even know if she wants kids and she’s imagining it now because of Cady. She just looks so sweet and happy, watching her dog make a fool of himself. Maybe they’ll start by getting a dog first. A dog then a baby—

 

God, no. Gross. No dogs. No babies. No future marriage. That’s not happening. Janis is glad she jolts back to reality right as Cady steps back to drink more eggnog. Janis sits on the couch with a pounding heart and spinning head. She really hates herself.

 

Because a part of her still thinks this will all come crashing down, and she’ll be pining for Cady in her room back at the orphanage. And Cady will never know because Janis has no plans on telling her for that very reason. She’s fucked either way. She can’t just cut Cady out of her life, not while she’s still here. But maybe if she discreetly pushed her in another direction…

 

Oh, wait. She already has. Last week at the mall, when she encouraged Cady to talk to Aaron. Even though Cady is Janis’s crush. Even though Cady getting close to Aaron would lessen the already nonexistence chances for her and Janis.

 

It’d be better that way. Maybe if Cady and Aaron hooked up, Janis could have a reason for not liking her. Make it easier for her when—no, if, she has to think positive—if she goes back.

 

And if she doesn’t? If she stays with the Georges and they adopt her? What then? Janis would have pushed her crush and her crush’s crush together. There’d be no reversing it.

 

So maybe Janis does hope it won’t work out. And it’s confusing, because it goes both ways.

 

“Janis, can we have our presents now?” Damian begs once Simon gives up on his quest and comes to sit on the couch with them, disappointed.

 

Janis is grateful for the opportunity to not think so hard about her and Cady. She retrieves the paintings, canvases facing her. “Okay, so, I figured I’d put my mediocre talent to good use and make these for you,” she tells them, and hands them to her beaming friends. “Ta-da.”

 

“Oh my God!” Cady squeals, as Janis goes to sit between them.

 

“How did you manage to make me more handsome than I already am?” Damian wonders, and Janis laughs, accepting his enthusiastic hug. “You’re a real one, Sarkisian.”

 

She shrugs, a little embarrassed. “You’re welcome.”

 

“I can’t even,” Cady moans, gently hugging her portrait. “Lemme see yours, Damian. Oh, wow. These are _beautiful,_ Janis. Thank you.”

 

She kisses her loudly on the cheek, and Janis’s blush deepens. Well, okay. There’s that.

 

Her friends really love their paintings, Damian so much so that he makes Janis take photos of him posing with it as Cady rifles through her DVDs for a Christmas movie. (If you want to take a step into the past, you come down to Cady Heron’s basement.)

 

Then they get into a debate for a solid ten minutes over what to watch when it comes down to _A Christmas Story_ and _The Santa Clause._ The latter wins by a two to one vote because Janis and Damian join forces against Cady.

 

Cady’s mom brings down hot cocoa for them all (extra marshmallows and cinnamon for Janis, a gesture that makes her tear up, but she hides it well), and Cady retrieves blankets. The trio snuggle up side by side as the movie starts, with Simon sleeping at their feet. The cocoa is delicious, not that Janis is surprised. It’s cozy down here, sandwiched between her friends.

 

Yeah. Maybe she’d really miss this if she went back.

 

* * *

 

Janis answers the door when Sharon knocks the following afternoon. “Don’t shut the door on me,” Sharon jokes, and Janis rolls her eyes, stepping aside to let her in.

 

She exchanges the usual pleasantries with Stephanie and Alex, and even Regina says hello. She’s in the living room today, and Sharon waves at her.

 

Janis returns to her spot on the couch as Sharon chats with the parents. Regina looks at her nervously and says in a low voice, “Are you gonna tell her about what happened?”

 

For a moment Janis doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But then she feels the blood drain from her face and Regina’s eyes get big.

 

If Sharon already knew, she probably would’ve called Janis to discuss it. So either Stephanie’s going to bring it up or she’ll encourage Janis to come clean. Even if she didn’t, Janis will do so anyway. She owes Sharon the truth and can’t hide it from her.

 

“What do you think she’ll say?” Regina murmurs.

 

Janis bristles without meaning to. “Why do you care?” she mutters, understanding how Regina must feel all the time. But still, they’re barely friends even after their chat. Surely Regina would be the tiniest bit thrilled to see Janis go.

 

Or maybe Janis just thinks that because that’s how she wants Regina to feel.

 

Regina doesn’t respond, and Janis won’t look at her face.

 

A while later, Sharon asks if she can talk to Janis in private before she leaves. Janis morosely gets up and follows her to the front sitting room, more tense than she’d like to be.

 

“Sit,” Sharon says, taking a seat on one of the plush chairs. Janis sighs and sits beside her in the other one. Sharon puts her stuff on the coffee table, then sighs.

 

“Did Stephanie tell you?” Janis asks quietly.

 

“She did,” Sharon confirms, nodding. “I wish I had found out when it happened, but it’s alright. I understand. She was taking care of you girls.”

 

“How much do you know now?”

 

“Enough. I wanna hear it from you, though.”

 

Janis inhales, fussing with her ring for comfort. She looks at it, reminded of how she felt when she got it, and miraculously it calms her somewhat. “Don’t be mad,” she whispers, obligated to plead for forgiveness before jumping in.

 

“I’m not,” Sharon says, looking surprised. “Just tell me what happened.”

 

“It wasn’t her fault,” Janis insists next, prepared to defend Regina even though she’s talking to one of the most compassionate people in the world. “The guy drugged her and he took her up to the room. I went looking for her because I got bored and wanted to leave, and I found them in there, and—he was on top of her and kissing her and she didn’t want any of it, and I just…I did what I had to do. I beat his ass and I don’t regret it.”

 

Sharon is somber for a moment, then murmurs, “Lemme see your hand, kid.” So Janis lets her evaluate her fist, mostly healed after two weeks.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time Sharon has wanted to inspect the damage.

 

“I’m fine,” Janis assures her. “Like, in my head, I’m okay. I don’t…I haven’t gotten angry since. Like, I haven’t punched anybody else. It was just for that night.” Well, if he does actually go to her school, she can’t exactly promise she won’t want to punch him again.

 

“I know,” Sharon says softly as Janis withdraws her hand. “You kept your thumb out?”

 

“Yeah,” Janis replies, taken aback that she isn’t being reprimanded.

 

Sharon smiles wryly. “That’s my girl.”

 

That makes Janis feel downright warm and fuzzy inside.

 

“You’re still not mad?” she still feels compelled to ask, just to be sure.

 

“Of course not,” Sharon consoles. “I know what you’re thinking, and no, you’re not going back with me. This might not be a first-time offense but you were defending Regina. You could have gotten seriously hurt, but you know that. So I’m not gonna put this in your records. My belated Christmas gift to you.” She taps Janis’s nose.

 

“Really?” Janis mumbles, scrunching it in response.

 

Sharon shakes her head. “There’s no need. Which probably means I suck at my job, but. You are an exception to most of my personal rules, so no one else has to know about it.”

 

Janis can’t help but hug her, overwhelmed by relief. Just because Sharon doesn’t believe it’s a big deal, her bosses and their bosses might not. And considering Janis’s history with throwing punches, the reason for doing it this time will fall on deaf ears.

 

Sharon takes her grinning face between her hands and kisses her forehead. “I’m proud of you, kid,” she says, and her voice is rough.

 

“Thanks. I’m proud of me, too.” Janis means for it to sound joking, but she’s sincere.

 

For a change of subject, Sharon asks, “Are you and Regina getting along, by any chance?”

 

Janis nods. “Yeah, we are,” she answers. “We’re making progress.”

 

“Good, I’m glad.” Sharon pats her cheek. “Now, tell me about your Christmas. Finally, because someone decided to hang up on me the other day.”

 

“Ah, yeah. Sorry.” Janis raises her shoulders self-consciously. “I just felt bad.”

 

“Don’t.” Sharon shakes her head, gently grabbing Janis’s chin. “Honey. You know you can call me anytime and I’ll answer.”

 

Janis nods, but will probably still be guilty about it anyway. They talk for a bit longer about their Christmases, catching up where they didn’t the other day.

 

They hug tight like they usually do when Sharon goes to leave. Janis stands on the porch with no shoes or a coat, watching her clunky car roll out of sight. Chewing her nail, she turns to go back inside, hating that it’ll be another month until she gets to see her again.

 

Regina is lingering by the staircase, seemingly waiting for her. “Did it go okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Janis says, shrugging. “She won’t put it in my file.”

 

Regina snorts. “You have a file, Sarkisian?”

 

Janis playfully punches her in the arm. “Wouldn’t you like to see it.”

 

* * *

 

Janis’s pulse is spiked with anxiety all of New Year’s Eve day. She has no clue why; she didn’t even have a bad dream the night before. The last day of the year always makes her feel weird, though, so it’s not exactly shocking. It’s like she’s running out of time to do something but it isn’t clear what it is she’s supposed to be doing.

 

She winds up taking Henry for a walk, fidgety from being cooped up in the house. The cold air is sharp against her exposed face, tender in her lungs. She pauses at a stop sign to catch her breath, the temperature having the opposite desired effect, then turns back around toward the house. Henry trots along happily at her feet, looking dapper in his new sweater.

 

“That was the shortest walk ever,” Regina quips when Janis returns, letting Henry off his leash. Janis doesn’t respond, and Regina, descending the stairs, gives her a look. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Janis lies, passing her on her way up.

 

She’s looking for the right music to put on when Cady texts her out of the blue to ask if she’d like to FaceTime. Janis has never called someone so fast in her life.

 

If she weren’t feeling this way, she would’ve turned her down just to avoid being awkward and lovesick. But seeing Cady’s face, hearing her voice, is actually quite therapeutic. Janis relaxes more in the time they spend talking than she did outside.

 

But she won’t tell Cady that. Because that’d be weird.

 

They have to say goodbye at some point, Cady jokingly telling her she’ll see her next year. It’s weird when you think about it like that, so Janis doesn’t. Even after their call is over, she feels okay—stable, just enough to get through the rest of the day.

 

It’s both scary and understandable how Cady can calm her down like that.

 

In the last hour of 2018, the four of them hang around downstairs, eating leftover cookies, and the girls get to have a little champagne.

 

Regina comes to sit with Janis on the couch, fifteen minutes til the ball drops. “Hi.”

 

“Hi.” Janis chugs the last of her champagne. It’s kind of gross.

 

Regina lightly puts her hand on Janis’s knee so it’ll stop vibrating. It does after that.

 

Stephanie gives Janis a big hug and kiss on the cheek when it’s minutes away from midnight. “We love you, baby,” she says with a sniffle, squeezing her tight. “We’re so lucky you came to us this year. Next year is gonna be even better, okay?”

 

Janis nods wordlessly, praying that that’s true.

 

She really did get lucky, all things considered. And they can only go up from here.

 

Janis links her arm with Regina’s as they count down from ten, and Regina doesn’t pull away.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  assault mention

School starts up again on January second. Regina drops Janis off only a minute away so she won’t have to walk so much, and the only reason they’re still doing that is because neither are in the mood to deal with nosy people asking why they showed up together.

 

Janis doesn’t think Regina’s personality will do a one eighty overnight, so if there’s still feelings of shame about Janis living with her, Janis wouldn’t be surprised. But she does appreciate the shortened distance nonetheless. It was nice of Regina.

 

Cady tackles Janis in a hug when they reunite in the hallway, even though it’s been three days since their little party. “I haven’t seen you since last year!” Cady crows dejectedly.

 

Janis groans. “Please, not those jokes.”

 

Cady boops her on the nose. “They’re funny and you know it.”

 

Okay, just a bit. Only because Cady thinks it’s funny.

 

Janis finds herself scanning the faces of every senior boy she lays eyes on, both wanting and not wanting to recognize the monster who hurt Regina—she knows exactly what she will do if she does, and she also knows her first instinct shouldn’t be to maim and seriously injure him a second time. But she wants to. Very badly.

 

The last two nights she has dreamt of that party, remembering how good it felt to pummel him. She was terrified, yes, but her fear only fueled her anger. Phantom pain aches in her fist when she thinks about it; Cady asks her multiple times if she’s okay after she flexes her hand.

 

At lunch, her leg bounces under the table, and her eyes fall on the Plastics’. Gretchen is babbling animatedly about something while Regina picks at her food. Janis watches when she slides her cheese fries—her favorite lunchtime treat—over to Karen, who gives her a look but accepts them without questioning it.

 

Must be one of those days. Janis doesn’t much feel like eating, either, but for different reasons—though if she asked Regina, maybe they’d be on the same page.

 

As a distraction, Janis asks Cady, “So, are you gonna talk to Aaron?”

 

Cady blinks at her. Damian brightens with interest and puts his chin in both his hands. “OMG,” he says unironically, and Cady shoves him.

 

“Stop. I don’t know,” she tells Janis, shrugging. “I haven’t decided yet.”

 

“Caddy.” Janis rolls her eyes. “Remember what I told you? You gotta just go for it. Today at the end of calculus, just tap him on the shoulder and ask how his Christmas was.”

 

Cady’s cute face crumples with uncertainty. “What if he ignores me?”

 

“Then he’d be a total asshole,” Damian says cheerfully, patting her on the shoulder. “But if that hunk was in my orbit, I’d take a chance on him.”

 

Cady groans, pushing her tray away to lay her head on her arms. “I hate this. Boys are stupid,” she laments. “Crushes are dumb. And there’s no way he’d like me.”

 

_Big mood,_ Janis thinks cynically, in reference to Cady.

 

“You don’t know that, honey,” Damian reassures her. “You don’t know what he’ll be like unless you talk to him. He could be just as nice as his ass,” which earns him a kick beneath the table, “—ouch. But, really, Janis has a point. If you want him, you have to go get him. He’s not gonna come to you, sweetie. This isn’t a movie.”

 

Cady pouts up at him and he taps her nose, which evidently is becoming a thing among them. Which is cute. “And if he doesn’t wanna be your friend, that’s his loss,” Damian concludes with a shrug, and Janis nods her agreement. “There’s other guys. And girls.”

 

Cady grins, but Janis’s stomach just dropped out of her ass then catapulted back inside her as if it was shot from a cannon. Not because there was an implication that Cady could date Janis, but that she could date a girl who _isn’t_ Janis. Any other girl here, maybe someone in the club. Someone who still isn’t Janis.

 

Janis hadn’t considered that. If Cady and Aaron don’t work out, Cady could have a crush on a girl. Janis would genuinely be happy for her if she got a girlfriend. But the thought of that is far worse than Cady being with Aaron. It’s actually giving her chest pains.

 

She heads to the bathroom after lunch, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. She sits on the toilet to put her head between her knees, soothed by the darkness. God, she’s prematurely jealous of some hypothetical girl.

 

Is this how Regina feels when she sees Stephanie and Janis together? Jealous of a situation she caused? Janis started it by encouraging Cady to talk to Aaron. People who have crushes on their friends don’t do that. And Regina started it by withdrawing from her family but feeling envious when she sees her mother doting on somebody else.

 

Two different scenarios, but Janis can relate to her regardless. She didn’t expect to ever be in a place where she could truthfully admit that.

 

She runs into Regina of all people on her way out. The bell rang so there’s nobody else here, so they don’t rush to get away from each other. Regina looks at Janis’s face and says, “Please don’t be about to throw up on my new shoes.” Which is hilariously in character.

 

Janis smiles dryly. “I’m fine, thanks,” she deadpans.

 

Regina makes a face. “Seriously. Are you sick?”

 

Janis shrugs. “No. Lunch didn’t agree with me.”

 

“Me neither,” Regina agrees, and Janis raises her eyebrows. “Oh, come on, I’m not in here to make myself throw up. I have to pee.”

 

“Thanks for that information,” Janis says as they walk in different directions. Regina snickers, though, and Janis cracks a smile as she pushes open the door to leave.

 

She doesn’t exactly believe Regina, but wasn’t going to argue.

 

For someone who once threatened to make up secrets about Janis as revenge, Regina has a lot of faith in her that she isn’t going to tell anyone.

 

Though Janis feels maybe she should have before they cleared the air. Because if she were to do it now, Regina would never forgive her.

 

Funny how helping her would’ve been easier when Regina still hated her guts.

 

* * *

 

Cady finds Janis at her locker after the final bell. “I did it,” she says, breathless and smiling.

 

“You did?” Janis exclaims, then hugs her. “Oh my God. What’d you say?”

 

“Well, when class was over, I just said, ‘Hey, Aaron,’ and he turned around and said, ‘Yeah?’ and then I asked him how his break was,” Cady gushes, eyes literally sparkling like an anime character’s. “And then we talked before we had to go to our next class.”

 

Janis claps. “Aw, yay! I’m so proud of you, froggy.” She wraps her up in another hug, mostly so Cady can’t see the growing pain in her eyes that she really wishes wasn’t there. But she truly is proud of Cady, knowing how hard it is to put yourself out there. She’s also glad Aaron wasn’t a jerk. Janis would’ve defended her. With her fists.

 

Elbows linked, they amble towards the front entrance. Damian joins them, instantly demanding to know what happened, euphoric when Cady tells him. “When’s the wedding?!” he demands breathlessly.

 

Janis bites her tongue hard enough to draw blood.

 

“Stop,” Cady says, but she’s laughing. Janis loves the sound of Cady’s laugh, she really does.

 

Just not when she’s laughing about Aaron.

 

Janis has no one but herself to blame for why Cady had the courage to talk to him today. Now, though, maybe she can dismantle her crush on Cady. Nip it in the bud before it becomes what she’s so scared of it being. Crushes are one thing. Having feelings is another.

 

But she doesn’t want to lose Cady altogether. That would definitely be the worst thing.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks of nothing pass, though Cady provides daily updates into her acquaintanceship with Aaron. Regina asks Janis about her increasingly stiff attitude one day during the drive home.

 

“You’re all tense,” she notes, side-eyeing her. “What’s wrong?”

 

Janis exhales curtly. “Don’t get mad.”

 

“Uh oh,” Regina mumbles, actually looking nervous.

 

“Cady has a crush on Aaron,” Janis tells her dismally. “And they’ve been talking lately. And it’s my fault because I told her she should do it if she wants to get close to him.”

 

Janis half-expects Regina to blow up since her ex-BFF is chatting it up with her ex-boyfriend, but she remains relatively calm. “Okay,” she says, confused. “Why does that bother you? You literally told her to talk to him. Which is cool with me.”

 

Janis snorts. “I don’t care if it’s cool with you or not, I’m pretty sure you’re aware she’d be the better girlfriend if they hook up,” she gripes, losing control of her filter when she’s mad.

 

Regina falls silent and Janis instantly feels bad, even though Regina actively decided to cheat on Aaron. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I didn’t mean—”

 

“No, I know,” Regina interrupts. “You’re right. She probably would be.”

 

_Yeah,_ Janis thinks. _That’s the problem._

 

Regina chews her lip. “So, why are you annoyed? Does she just not shut up about him now? How long has she had a crush on him, anyway? Not that I care or anything. Wait, do you think they’ll actually hook up? That’d be so weird for both of us. But, seriously, why does that bother you? I know you can’t be jealous of _her_ , because—” And then she gasps, and Janis closes her eyes tightly, since the jig is undoubtedly up now.

 

“Oh my _God,_ ” Regina exclaims, then cackles. “No way! You like Cady!”

 

“Ughhh. Regina, just don’t…” Janis slides down in her seat.

 

“I mean, I shouldn’t be so surprised, but oh my God,” Regina continues, and Janis glares. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant like—you’re best friends, of course you’d like her.”

 

“That still implies I like her just because I’m a lesbian.”

 

“Well, whatever.” Regina shakes her head. “That’s amazing. You like Cady. But, wait. Why did you tell her to shoot for Aaron if you like her?”

 

“Because she doesn’t like me back,” Janis says, not technically knowing that to be true but is ninety-nine point nine percent positive it is. “She doesn’t even know I like her. But she’s super into him, so I just told her to go for it. Because he could…make her happy.”

 

Regina thinks about that. “Happier than you could make her?”

 

Janis shrugs uncomfortably. She never anticipated discussing her lesbian love affairs with the one person who once made fun of her for it.

 

“So you’re just gonna sit back and torture yourself by watching them together?” Regina asks, genuinely perplexed. She almost sounds like she cares. “You do realize that your crush on her won’t go away if they start dating, right? If anything, it’ll make it worse.”

 

“Okay, you’re not being helpful,” Janis grumbles, sitting up now. “Yes, I have realized that. Lots of different endgame scenarios here, Regina.”

 

Regina pulls into the garage, but neither of them make a move to leave the car just yet. After a minute she murmurs, “I just want him to be happy. With or without Cady.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis whispers, then looks at her. “Do you regret it?”

 

Regina leans back, sighing. She’s quiet for a moment, then nods. “I hurt him. I think about the day we broke up all the time. The look on his face… I did that to him. When he was so good to me no matter what. We started dating last summer and he was so charming when we met. He was the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and I completely ruined it.”

 

“What was so great about Shane?” Janis wonders.

 

Regina laughs humorlessly. “Nothing. He was just…easy. We hooked up because I knew he’d keep his mouth shut. And he did. I guess I liked the thrill of it. It made me feel…rebellious. And I know that’s shitty because I already had a great boyfriend. I don’t even…I don’t know.”

 

She rubs her temple, gritting her teeth. “I don’t know why I do half the things I do,” she admits. “I don’t even know who I am. So I just do whatever because it doesn’t matter. I’m not that good of a person so it’s, like, whatever. Cheat on my boyfriend, make fun of that person, torment my foster sibling when she doesn’t deserve it.”

 

She shakes her head. “I’m the worst. And you’re right, just because bad shit has happened to me doesn’t mean I can take it out on other people. I don’t know what I was trying to achieve or feel by cheating on Aaron. Or do any of the stuff I did. Which wasn’t that long ago.” She sighs. “How would I even go about being better? What do I do?”

 

“Apologize,” Janis tells her bluntly, and she gives her a reluctant look. “That’s really all you can do. First you admit what you did wrong, then you apologize for it—without victimizing yourself. It’s tricky because even when you’re saying sorry, your instinct is to defend yourself. But when you’ve hurt someone, that only makes it worse.”

 

“Ugh.” Regina hides her face in her hands, and stays there for a long time. Eventually her low voice says, without a hint of sarcasm or manipulation, “I hate myself.”

 

Janis isn’t going to coddle her or assure her she’s not that bad. But Janis doesn’t want her to hate herself, either, so she says, “Then do something about it. Work to get to a better place.”

 

Regina looks at her now. “Will you help me?”

 

“Of course,” Janis replies without hesitation.

 

“Where do I even start?” Regina murmurs doubtfully.

 

They just got home, and there’s someone who Regina probably should sit down with and talk to. Who deserves to understand why she’s been so cold and distant.

 

“Not my mom,” Regina protests even though Janis didn’t say it out loud. “No, no, I can’t—no, I can’t. Not yet. I have to…figure out what to say.”

 

“Okay.” Janis shrugs. “You might as well, because it’s her. But maybe tomorrow you can talk to Aaron. Just tell him what you told me. Own up to how you treated him and apologize.”

 

“But that’s so hard,” Regina mumbles.

 

“Apologies are supposed to be hard,” Janis reminds her. “If they were easy, more people would say sorry. So I guess it means a lot when someone actually does.”

 

Regina sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Fine,” she concedes, popping open her door.

 

“Good talk, Regina,” Janis whispers to herself, following suit.

 

* * *

 

The next day is Friday, and Janis is startled when Regina tracks her down in the library during break. “I have to talk to you,” she hisses, grabbing her arm and yanking her to a quiet corner.

 

“People could see us,” Janis warns her quietly.

 

“I don’t care,” Regina huffs, to Janis’s great delight and surprise. “I talked to Aaron.”

 

“Really?” That was fast. Janis didn’t think she’d really do it. “How’d that go?”

 

Regina lifts a shoulder. “Fine, I guess. It was super weird but…I apologized how you said to. I don’t think he’s gonna forgive me anytime soon, which is fine. I didn’t expect us to be friends. I told him I’m gonna be a better person and stuff.”

 

“Good,” Janis praises. “Why do you look so down?”

 

“I miss him,” Regina admits softly, looking sheepish. “I haven’t been near him since we broke up, we haven’t talked at all, so… Seeing him again was weird.”

 

Janis won’t offer baseless words of comfort because they both know Regina and Aaron aren’t getting back together, ever, and not just because of the potential of Cady and Aaron.

 

“Well, I’m proud of you,” Janis tells her, poking her arm.

 

Regina sort of smiles, but there’s a light in her eyes. It’s likely been a while since someone told her that.

 

Later as Janis is heading for the auditorium, she hears Regina calling for her. Regina catches up with her to ask, “Are you going to your gay thing?”

 

Janis snorts, amused. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

 

“Can I come with you?” Regina pleads, eyes big and hopeful.

 

Janis stops walking. “Is that a good idea?”

 

“I dunno, is it?” Regina counters. “Look, I wanted to say sorry to them, too. For what I did. I’m on a roll here, Janis, I wanna make things right.”

 

Janis feels like she woke up in an alternate universe, but hey, whatever. This is good.

 

When they enter the auditorium, Janis tells Regina to wait, then goes up to her rowdy friends, who are convening in their usual spots. “Hey, guys,” she says loudly to gain their attention. “Hi. Um, there’s someone here who has something to say.”

 

She gestures to the doors, and everyone falls silent. Cady and Damian glance at each other, then at Janis with confused eyes. Janis waves Regina over, but meets her halfway.

 

Regina looks like a deer in the headlights. Janis gives her a nod of encouragement, and she takes a deep breath prior to speaking. “Uh, hi,” she greets shyly. “I know I’m probably the last person any of you want to see, and I get that, but… I wanted to, uh, say sorry. For what I did. It was the worst possible thing I could’ve done, coming here to intimidate you all. I feel terrible about it and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making fun of you and making you feel unsafe here. I think it’s actually pretty cool that you guys have each other, so I’m sorry for trying to…ruin it. I won’t do it again. I know I can’t ask for forgiveness, so I won’t. But I can promise that nothing like it will happen again. Janis would beat me up.”

 

That coaxes a rumble of laughter, and Janis nods in agreement.

 

“Um, so.” Regina shuffles her feet, tucking her hair behind her ear. “One of my resolutions was to be a better person, and I wanted to start with you guys. So, I’m sorry.”

 

There’s a moment of quiet as everyone processes that, looking around at one another, clearly unsure how to react. When nothing happens for a minute, Regina takes the initiative to say, “I should get going, I guess. Bye.” She waves, shares a look with Janis, then walks away.

 

Taylor Wedell scrambles to get to the snack table, quickly wrapping a cookie in a napkin then running over to Regina before she can get too far.

 

“Wait, take a cookie,” she beams, offering it to her, and a surprised Regina gently takes it.

 

“Thanks,” she says, and Taylor blushes, falling back to stand with Janis.

 

“That was nice of her,” she hums cheerfully when Regina exits, and Janis hugs her.

 

“Yeah,” she agrees, cheek on Taylor’s head. “It was.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  abuse mention   
>  eating disorder talk

“That was interesting,” Cady says to Janis, taking the seat next to her. “How’d you swing it?”

 

Janis grins at her hands. “I didn’t. It was all her. She asked if she could come with me because she wanted to apologize. I’m not as surprised as I should be, though. Has Aaron mentioned to you that she apologized to him, too?”

 

Cady raises her eyebrows. “No. Really?”

 

Janis nods. “Yup. We talked about it yesterday. Her being a better person and all. I guess she decided to start sooner rather than later. Aaron really didn’t bring it up?”

 

Cady shakes her head. “I mean, he did seem a little off, so we didn’t chat much today. That’s probably why, though. I hope he’s okay,” she murmurs, her eyes drifting away. Janis does, too. Nobody deserves to get cheated on.

 

They’re quiet for a minute, then Janis asks how things are going with Aaron regardless. Cady brightens and Janis’s heart caves in on itself. She wishes she could be the reason for that sudden light in her eyes.

 

“They’re good,” Cady chirps. “He’s very sweet. We have a lot in common. He unironically likes lions, too, so that’s fun.” And she blushes, hiding her hands in her sweater sleeves, and Janis could cry. She honest to God wants to start crying.

 

She doesn’t like being jealous. It makes her feel disgusting and mean. But she can’t help it; it’s like a base instinct now, to get defensive, to be envious. But she can’t stop asking about Aaron because she made this happen to begin with and it’d be rude to ignore it now.

 

And she can’t pass up the opportunity to see that sweet smile grace Cady’s face. Cady, who is hopefully never, ever going to find out how downright idiotic Janis was to start crushing on her under these slippery circumstances.

 

Janis knows it’s her fault. She brought it upon herself.

 

Which actually makes it suck so much more. It reminds her how good she is at ruining things.

 

Later that night, she taps on Regina’s door to grab her attention. “Regina?”

 

Regina pops out of her bathroom, tugging on one of the sweaters she got for Christmas. She’s visibly uncomfortable with how it looks. “What?”

 

“Hi. You look cute,” Janis prefaces, and Regina rolls her eyes. “No, really, I like it. Uh, I wanted to thank you. For what you did today.”

 

Regina shrugs. “You’re welcome. Did they laugh when I left?”

 

“They were a little shell-shocked,” Janis admits. “But I think they appreciated it.”

 

Regina nods, folding her arms. “Good. I mean… Yeah.”

 

They’re quiet for a moment, then Regina looks down at her sweater and says, “Does it actually look good on me or are you just saying that to be nice?”

 

“Both,” Janis teases, and goes back to her room.

 

* * *

 

February thirteenth should be universally recognized as the superior holiday it is: Galentine’s Day. When Janis climbs into Regina’s car holding her gift for Cady, Regina stares at it with sly eyes and a knowing smirk until Janis notices and has to explain herself.

 

“It’s the thirteenth,” she reminds Regina. “This isn’t a love declaration.”

 

“Sure, sure.” Regina pulls out of the driveway. “Then what is it?”

 

“It’s Galentine’s Day,” Janis tells her innocently. “The most important day of the year. Naturally I had to get Cady something that would signify how much I appreciate our _friendship_ ,” and she fixes Regina with a stern look. “I looked up the meanings of roses and it said yellow can mean friendship. So I got one of these and her favorite candy.”

 

“Gay,” Regina mutters under her breath. Janis punches her in the arm.

 

She’s still rubbing it when she pulls up to their drop-off spot. Janis sticks her tongue out at her, getting out of the car, but she sees Regina’s smiling.

 

In school, Janis finds Cady at her locker and approaches with her surprises behind her back. “Hello,” she whispers into Cady’s ear, and Cady yelps, smacking her head on her locker door when she whirls around.

 

“Shit, are you okay?” Janis demands as Cady blinks, startled from the impact.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she murmurs, rubbing her temple. She still brightens up at Janis as she says, “Happy Galentine’s Day, ya weirdo.”

 

“You too. Are you sure you’re alright?” Janis’s face is burning with shame.

 

“I’m totally fine,” Cady assures, beaming. “Whatcha got there?”

 

Janis awkwardly produces the yellow rose and bar of Hershey’s chocolate, and Cady squeals with delight. She leaps to give her a hug, and to their peers it probably looks… Well. Gay.

 

Janis hadn’t thought about how most people probably don’t know the meaning of flower colors and are going to see this and think they’re together.

 

She’s not quite sure how to feel about that.

 

Cady claps and _awww_ _’s_ as she takes her gifts. “Janis, thank you! You’re the sweetest ever.”

 

Janis shrugs, scratching her neck. “It’s not much. The flower means friendship, by the way.”

 

Cady grins in this funny way, like she’s happy about that but something lingers in her eyes that makes it seem like she wanted it to mean more than that. But maybe Janis is just seeing what she wants to see. Which is super helpful.

 

“I got you something, too,” Cady chirps, gently placing her gifts in her locker before picking up her backpack and rummaging through it. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands!”

 

Janis does so, and a second later she feels something wooden in her palms. She gasps when she sees what it is: a miniature easel with a real canvas already placed on it. But it isn’t blank; Cady painted a slightly misshapen pink heart with her and Janis’s initials in the middle. And to Janis, at least, that’s pretty fucking gay.

 

“I know I’m not an artist,” Cady says apologetically, since Janis has yet to say anything. “I tried my best. I figured you could put it on your desk or something.”

 

“Yeah, I love it,” Janis assures, hoping Cady can’t hear the tremor in her voice. “You did great. It’s really cute, thank you so much.” She hugs her one-armed, aiming to hide her face until she can get a grip. Cady squeezes her tightly.

 

“I feel bad,” Janis admits when they pull away. “All I got you was a crummy rose and candy.”

 

Cady’s jaw drops, offended. “Excuse you. Don’t talk about my best friend’s gift for me like that. She took the time to get those things for me and I appreciate them a lot.”

 

Janis grins crookedly and Cady taps her nose, then closes her locker. “I’ll keep them safe in here for now,” she says. “You sure you like it?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Janis gives the little easel a hug. “C’mon, let’s go show Damian.”

 

Arms around each other, they set off for homeroom, Janis’s heart still pounding.

 

* * *

 

That night, Janis looks up a recipe for strawberry milkshakes, and takes the finished product up the stairs to Regina’s room. She nudges the door open with her foot, raising the glasses in greeting when Regina sits up on her bed, peering toward her in confusion. Half-expecting her to tell her to get lost, Janis cautiously approaches and offers a drink.

 

“What’s this?” Regina asks, taking one, to Janis’s relief. There’s still moments of doubt.

 

“Happy Galentine’s Day,” Janis says simply, sipping hers as she walks around to the opposite side of Regina’s bed. She climbs up to sit, leaning against her ridiculously comfortable pillows. Regina swirls her straw around, then sips it.

 

“Thanks,” she says after, sounding surprised at both the good taste and Janis’s generosity.

 

Janis nods to her open computer. “I’m bored. Put on _Parks & Rec._”

 

“Obviously,” Regina mutters, rolling her eyes, but opens Netflix without arguing. That’s how the two of them spend their evening, sipping their pink shakes and watching the best show to ever exist. Janis is glad she and Regina have this one thing in common.

 

Happy Galentine’s Day, indeed.

 

* * *

 

Janis is almost apprehensive to go to school the next day. Even Regina looks a bit queasy as she pulls out of the driveway, though she has a bit more reason to not be in the best mood for today. If she hadn’t cheated, she’d be spending a romantic day with Aaron. Now Janis expects Cady to reveal later that Aaron asked her out.

 

Telling by the look on Regina’s face, she’s thinking the same thing.

 

“I miss him,” she murmurs as Janis goes to get out of the car. She hangs back to acknowledge Regina, who suddenly appears stricken. She leans her forehead on the wheel. “I mean, I know I shouldn’t, and I… It’s weird. I don’t think I was in love with him.”

 

Janis raises her eyebrows. “But you still miss him?”

 

Regina nods. “A lot. He’s just so _good,_ Janis,” she groans, slumping in her seat. “And he was a great boyfriend. And I completely took advantage of him. I’ll never forgive myself.”

 

Janis rubs her shoulder. “This is just something you gotta deal with. You fucked up and you’re aware you fucked up, so you apologized. There doesn’t have to be forgiveness. As long as he knows you’re sorry, that’s all you can do.”

 

Regina pouts, but nods. “I guess so. How do you always know what to say?”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder and pops open the door. “Life,” she replies, and steps out.

 

School isn’t that bad, except Janis gags continuously from walking past lovey-dovey heteros in the halls. The sexually active band geeks are more rambunctious than usual and there’s not a single gay couple in sight to balance out the horrendousness of this holiday.

 

Thankfully, Aaron doesn’t ask Cady out. Janis is sure it’ll happen at some point, since him and Cady just seem to be getting closer. Cady is happier and more confident these days. Her joy is visible on her face at all times, and it does please Janis that she’s so content. Happy Caddy is the best Caddy, no matter the reason why.

 

That helps Janis come to terms with her crush. She might not get a chance with Cady, but she would prefer to see Cady be this happy and loving life than be miserable and pining for Aaron. Not that she was miserable before, but there’s a considerable lift in her personality.

 

And maybe that still makes Janis jealous, that she isn’t the cause of it.

 

She’s relieved nonetheless when the final bell rings. She gets a strong sense of deja vu when she’s walking down the hall and sees Regina exiting the girls’ restroom, flattening her skirt and hair. They unintentionally make eye contact, and Janis’s heart cracks at the mortified look that passes over Regina’s face. Then she’s clenching her jaw and hurrying away. Janis sighs, and keeps trudging toward the school entrance.

 

Regina still pulls up beside her at the sidewalk to pick her up. Janis quietly gets in, not saying a word. Regina looks like she’s trying to either not cry or throw up. Maybe both.

 

Janis won’t ask. And she won’t tell.

 

* * *

 

The vibe in Regina’s room is different than it was twenty-four hours ago. The only light comes from beneath her bathroom door, where Janis hesitates outside for a solid five minutes before she gathers the courage to knock once.

 

A sniff, then a grumbled, “Who is it?”

 

“Your favorite,” Janis teases, and Regina scoffs. The doorknob turns and opens as Regina sits back down on the floor in front of the toilet, back against the wall.

 

Janis leans against the doorway with her arms folded. “What’s wrong, your majesty?”

 

Regina gives her a half-hearted glare, too tired to muster anything else. She doesn’t answer at first, stretching her legs out and pouting. “I don’t like my body,” she says eventually.

 

“Well, I don’t like my body, either. But it’s the only one I have.”

 

Regina’s pasty, makeup-free face crumples. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

 

Shaking her head, Janis goes and sits next to her, hugging her knees. They sit in silence for a bit, neither feeling the need to speak.

 

Then Regina does something unexpected in the form of giving a shit about Janis and her past. “Do you remember your dad?” she asks softly, hesitantly.

 

“Not really,” Janis admits, a little surprised by the question, but not upset. “He died when I was a toddler. Then I had to go to an orphanage because my grandma couldn’t take care of me.”

 

Another pause. Regina says, “Are my parents the first fosters you actually like?”

 

“Yes,” Janis whispers. “Like, genuinely. There’s parents I _start_ to like, so I freak out and do shit to make them send me back. But not them.”

 

“What makes you want to stay?” Regina wonders.

 

Janis lets her silence speak for her. She sees Regina’s damp-eyed glance in her peripheral.

 

“Do you like Alex?” Janis asks, taking a turn now.

 

“Yes,” Regina replies without hesitation. Now that does surprise Janis. “I love him a lot. He’s a good dad. Better than the asshole I used to have.”

 

“Then why do you treat both him and your mom like shit?” Janis picks at a hole in her fishnets.

 

“I don’t treat them like—” Regina goes to protest then catches herself. “I don’t know,” she says in a calmer voice. “I really don’t know.”

 

“He made you forget how to love,” Janis muses, earning a sharp look. But Regina doesn’t tell her off. Because she knows she’s right. “Your old dad. He was a douche to you and your mom and now even though you love Alex, you can’t forget him. And you’ve been so pissed over him for so long you don’t know how to love without fear of rejection.”

 

“Jesus,” Regina whispers, chin quivering. She holds it together, though. “You’re way too wise.”

 

Janis grins humorlessly. “Years of childhood trauma and repressed feelings do that to you.”

 

“Then why don’t I know all this shit already?”

 

“Because you don’t _wanna_ know this shit. Applying labels to your problems makes it harder to ignore them. Once you understand a problem, you can’t forget it’s there. So you act like you’re fine so nobody can hold you accountable. Until you met me, of course.”

 

“Of course,” Regina agrees quietly.

 

Janis nudges her with her elbow. “Not to be gross, but I’m proud of you. You’re less of a bitch now than you were three months ago. Progress, girl.”

 

Regina tilts her head back. Janis deliberately doesn’t look at her, giving her privacy.

 

“I wonder what he’d think of me,” Regina says. “If he knew me now. If they hadn’t split up. If he was a normal dad. Or if I was a normal person. Maybe he was bad because of me. Maybe I’m bad because of him. I don’t know. But I think he hated me. We have that in common.”

 

“Hating yourself doesn’t get you anywhere,” Janis tells her. “And if he’s that evil, that’s exactly what he’d want. So you can’t go there, Regina. You’re better than him. I know it’s easy to be a tyrannical hellbeast, but we both know that’s not really you. You feel remorse. He doesn’t, and never will. And you don’t have to forgive him, just like nobody has to forgive you. But there’s a difference in choosing to grow and ignoring that decision.”

 

Regina wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “I don’t know how to grow when I’m so angry.”

 

“I thought that about myself,” Janis confesses. “But then I came here and I realized there’s lots of reasons to be hopeful. And I’m still angry about a lot of things. But I try really hard to not let it control me. I don’t wanna hurt people.”

 

Regina chews her lip, head coming to rest on Janis’s shoulder, their arms pressed together. It gets quiet again for a while, both girls lost in thought. Both thinking, both remembering.

 

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Janis whispers at some point. “You’re gonna end up in the hospital if you lose any more weight, Regina.”

 

“I know,” Regina says hoarsely. “But I’m fine.”

 

“Right,” Janis mumbles. “You’re ‘fine’ up until you’re hooked to a machine to keep you alive.”

 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Regina argues. “It’s not like that. I’m not anorexic. Or whatever. I’m just—I like being a certain weight, okay?”

 

“No, you like being in control,” Janis disputes, and Regina lifts her head, jaw dropping. “Yeah, I said it. And you know I’m right. It’s not about body image. You’re just trying not to spiral.”

 

“Shut up,” Regina mutters, but puts her head back down. “If you were so concerned about me, you’d have told my parents by now. _You’re_ just afraid it’ll backfire.”

 

Janis is glad Regina can’t see the stricken expression that she feels passing over her face. “I’ll be honest,” she says flatly. “I wouldn’t care if I got sent back for some reason for telling them if it meant you still got the help you need.”

 

“How selfless of you,” Regina murmurs sleepily. “Risking everything for me again. I really hit the jackpot with you as a foster sister, didn’t I?”

 

Janis jabs her a tad more aggressively, so she punches her back. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” Regina assures her. “’Kay? I’ve had it under control for a while. It’s not a big deal.”

 

“Your doctors and parents will decide if it’s a big deal.”

 

“Then tell them,” Regina taunts. “Go fucking tell my mom right now. Show her my effin’ diary to prove it.” She pokes her in the side. “It’s not what you think. I don’t even…know what to call it. I _guess_ it’s an ED. But… Yeah, it is because I like having control. Is that so wrong?”

 

“It is when it’s your health,” Janis retorts, and Regina scoffs.

 

“Please. I don’t make myself throw up every day,” she says. “Only occasionally.”

 

“The rest is just keeping a creepy journal of all the carbs you eat.”

 

“We all have our ways of coping,” Regina reminds her.

 

“Doesn’t mean it’s right,” Janis counters pointedly, and Regina huffs, but doesn’t reply.

 

They both know the other is right, and are at a neutral state of conversation where nothing is resolved but isn’t flaring up anymore, either. Janis just hopes if she were to tell Stephanie, the only consequences she’d face would be for keeping it a secret. She doesn’t know what she’d do if one of the consequences was Regina’s fate.

 

When she goes to clean up her desk before bed, she stops to look at Cady’s little painting. It occurs to her that Regina hasn’t said anything yet about making things right with Cady.

 

If this Aaron thing mixed with Janis’s crush get out of hand, they’ll both have to.

 

Janis goes to bed feeling like she’s not as strong as she thinks she is. And it’s a horrible feeling.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit more chill so i didn’t see a need for tw’s. hope everyone’s having a great summer!

During breakfast the weekend after, Stephanie casually asks Janis what she wants to do for her birthday. Janis stares at her mid-chew, having forgotten about it.

 

“We can go wherever,” Stephanie tells her. “It’s your day.”

 

Janis puts her fork down, finishing her bite of waffle as she thinks. “Um, I don’t know. I’m not really…too big on my birthday. It’s not a big deal.”

 

“Would you like it to be?” Stephanie asks, and that throws Janis for a loop. She’s automatically resistant to the idea of celebrating _her,_ but a tiny part of her glows with childish excitement. It’s not there for long, because it shouldn’t be. Janis’s birthday has never been important, and she isn’t about to make it so. Just thinking about all that attention makes her uncomfortable.

 

“Okay,” Stephanie says, patting her cheek, since she has yet to respond. “We can stay home if you want. But we’ll do whatever you want if you realize you’d like to do something. At the very least, do you know what cake you want?”

 

Well. Janis can settle for cake. “Cookie,” she murmurs. “A big cookie cake.”

 

Stephanie writes it down. “A big…cookie…cake. Got it. Fun!”

 

She ruffles Janis’s hair when she passes to go upstairs to wake Regina, and Janis grins at her plate of waffles. Maybe she’s still glowing a little. Cake fixes everything.

 

* * *

 

Damian picks her up that afternoon on his way to Cady’s house, and the first thing he says is, “Ma’am. It is your birthday in less than a week.”

 

“Sir. Yes, it is,” Janis confirms, buckling her seatbelt. “What about it?”

 

Damian purses his lips and looks at her shrewdly. “What might you plan on doing to celebrate the momentous occasion? And don’t say nothing, I beg you.”

 

“Nothing,” Janis deadpans, and he throws up his hands in exasperation.

 

“Janis,” he sighs, shaking his head as he returns to the road. “It’s your birthday, honey. The big one seven. You’re gonna be the dancing queen.”

 

Janis laughs out loud. “Um, hardly. I can’t dance. I’d rather be a vampire.”

 

It takes him a second to catch the reference, then he scoffs in disgust. “No. You’re the dancing queen whether you like it or not,” he mutters.

 

Janis shrugs, pulling a nail file out of her jacket pocket. “Whatever you say, boss.”

 

At a stoplight, he offers his hand so she can fix his nails, too.

 

Cady is chilling on her porch with a book while Simon lays in the late February sun. Janis can’t believe it’s almost March, and nearly four months since she moved in. Life feels like a massive time warp. And the more of it she spends with Cady, the warmer her feelings become, and she hates it. She can’t ask for space without an explanation nor can she tell Cady, or even be able to withstand being away from her to begin with. So she’s stuck in this lovesick hole.

 

Janis has never had a crush before. She has no idea what she’s doing. And she wouldn’t recommend it.

 

Cady beams and leaps to her feet when Damian’s truck pulls into her driveway. The snow has begun melting as spring temperatures arise, bright blades of grass starting to appear. Janis is convinced Cady herself makes the snow melt.

 

Because, you know. She’s the actual sun.

 

“Hi, almost birthday girl,” she chirps as Janis hops out of the truck.

 

Janis rolls her eyes. “God. So it begins.”

 

“Yup,” Cady teases, hugging her around her arms so she can’t jokingly squirm away.

 

Inside, Janis and Damian are greeted with hugs by Mrs. Heron. Janis loves Cady’s mom; she doesn’t feel weird around her, and she couldn’t say that about past friends’ parents. She’s so much like Cady that it’s just easy for Janis to be herself around her.

 

In Cady’s room, Cady grabs her journal to take notes, then starts berating Janis with questions about possible birthday scenarios. Janis, naturally, says no to all of them, sitting cross-legged on Cady’s bed while Damian braids her hair behind her. She’s happy to see Beary the Build-A-Bear propped up beside Roary the lion on Cady’s pillows, still dressed in his Santa costume. It actually surprises her that Cady kept him.

 

She supposes she’s so used to being rejected that she subconsciously thought Cady wouldn’t.

 

“I’m out of ideas,” Cady grumbles, slumping in her chair. She’s manspreading, something she had to have picked up from Janis, and Janis chokes a little.

 

“Good,” she says in a high voice, then clears her throat. Cady pouts at her. It’s adorable.

 

“You really don’t wanna do anything?” she asks, leaning forward now. “No mini golf? No Chuck-E-Cheese? No horseback trail riding? None of this seems fun to you?”

 

“I didn’t say they don’t seem fun,” Janis retorts as Damian finishes her braid. “I just don’t want to do them on my birthday. I mean, I guess all of us could go out for pizza or something?”

 

“Just pizza?” Damian asks, laying sideways next to her now, filing her nails for her in return.

 

Janis shrugs. “I dunno. My birthday is…not special.”

 

Cady frowns sadly. “Then we wanna make it special.”

 

“So does Stephanie,” Janis sighs. “I told her I’ll have cookie cake. I’ll save some for you guys.”

 

Damian kisses her hand. “Mwah. You’re an angel, Janis Sarkisian,” he hums, and she weirdly wants to start crying. She loves him so much.

 

“Well, if all you want is cake and pizza, we can work with that,” Cady concedes, bumping her socked foot to Janis’s knee. “What about gifts?”

 

“Nuh-uh. Don’t you dare,” Janis insists with wide eyes. “Not a chance.”

 

“You wouldn’t let us get you anything for Christmas,” Damian says, miffed. “We have to repay you for your gorgeous paintings somehow.”

 

“Guys, seriously,” Janis huffs, beginning to feel claustrophobic. “No gifts. Cady, you know how awkward I am receiving things. I’ll accept a card, though. Just not one that sings.”

 

“Damn it,” Damian whines, punching the bed.

 

“You’re not awkward,” Cady murmurs. “You still like my crappy painting?”

 

“I love it,” Janis says instantly. “It’s on my desk next to my computer. I look at it when I’m sad.”

 

Cady beams again, happy to hear that. “Good. I’m glad.”

 

Then she sighs and puts her notebook away. “I’m gonna go get drinks. The usual?” Which is a Coke for Janis, Dr. Pepper for Damian, and strawberry lemonade for her.

 

As soon as she leaves, Damian sits up and startles Janis into the next dimension by saying, “I cannot believe you two aren’t together yet.”

 

Janis stares at him for a long moment. “Excuse me?”

 

He waves a hand and takes Janis’s other one to continue filing. “You should see the way your eyes sparkle when she so much as looks at you. It’s amazing.”

 

“I’m—what are you talking about?” Janis sputters, cheeks aflame. “My eyes don’t _sparkle._ ”

 

“Like an anime character’s,” Damian maintains.

 

“Damian!” Janis yanks her hand away. “I don’t like Cady, not like that.”

 

His lips twitch, then he bursts out laughing. Loud, obnoxious, borderline fake laughter to prove his point. “Honey,” he wheezes, tapping her nose. “Yes you do.”

 

Janis feels like she’s burning from the inside out. She isn’t sure if she should keep arguing or just drop it for now. She seethes quietly as Damian picks up her hand again, humming.

 

“How long?” she whispers eventually, giving in. “When did you notice?”

 

“December,” he says. “At the talent show. I saw you two in the audience and you were looking over at her as she watched me. I would be annoyed you weren’t paying attention, but it’s okay. It was for a few seconds, but it was long enough.”

 

Janis rolls her totally not-sparkly eyes. “Long enough for what?”

 

“For me to assume you liked her,” he states simply.

 

Janis fidgets uncomfortably. “Anything else?”

 

“Yes. Every single day at school when we’re together, it’s like all you can do is look at Cady. You were really excited when she switched to our homeroom class. When she laughs, you laugh. When she smiles, you smile. You like her so much, it’s written all over your face.” He gently pushes back her cuticles as he speaks. “And it kills me because it’s obvious she has no clue, _and_ she never shuts up about Aaron.”

 

“Shhh,” Janis scolds. “I don’t care if they hook up. If he can make her happy…”

 

Damian sniffs. “Nah. I have a theory that she likes you back, but she’s scared of her feelings due to her trauma so she’s hyperfixating on Aaron.”

 

Janis blinks. “Seriously? I mean—okay.” Well. That’s a theory, all right.

 

Except Cady most certainly doesn’t like Janis back. She can’t. That’d be insane.

 

They don’t get a chance to keep gossiping because Cady returns then with their sodas. Janis is grateful. Damian can pester her more about it later.

 

Shit, though. She thought she was so discreet. But nothing gets past Damian, apparently. She was stupid to think she could hide it.

 

She trusts him and knows he won’t tell Cady. But now both him and Regina know, and Janis is lowkey freaking out about that. The more people know, the bigger chance of Cady finding out, intentionally or not. And Janis really wouldn’t know how to deal with that.

 

Well. She _could_ bottle everything up and leave. Her default, go-to solution.

 

But she’s not sure if she’d want to run away. That’s the scariest part.

 

* * *

 

Regina is coming back from walking Henry when Janis arrives home. They meet up in the driveway and Regina greets her with, “You look like someone killed your cat.”

 

“Do I?” Janis mumbles, not bothering to act okay.

 

“What happened?” Regina asks. Janis is slowly adjusting to her new, makeup-less face.

 

Janis shrugs, mulling it over before she speaks. “Damian knows I like Cady.”

 

“But you didn’t tell him.” It’s not a question.

 

Janis shakes her head. “No. He realized it a while ago.”

 

“Geez,” Regina says quietly. Then, wincing apologetically, “Why’s that bad?”

 

Janis half-scowls. “Because. You know and now he knows. Anything could happen. He thinks she likes me back but is ‘hyperfixating’ on Aaron to hide it.”

 

“Well, for one, I’m not gonna tell her,” Regina reassures. “I have no reason to. That’s your little gay thing. And if he’s your friend, he won’t tell her, either. As for his theory…I’d say that’s lame because who in their right mind could like you,” and she smiles crookedly to show she’s sort of kidding, “but, I dunno. It wouldn’t surprise me if she did.”

 

Janis arches an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t?”

 

Regina realizes what she said and gets this weird look on her face, and there is a long pause. Then she inhales and says, effectively changing the subject, “Mom made cookies. Let’s go.”

 

Janis doesn’t know what to make of what just happened, but trails after Regina regardless.

 

Janis tells Stephanie she wouldn’t mind getting pizza with her friends, unafraid to mention it in front of Regina because Regina knows how awkward it’d be if she were there. Janis will let her eat some cake, though. She’s nice like that.

 

“That’s a great idea,” Stephanie says. “What about a sleepover?”

 

Regina nearly chokes on her cookie. Janis says, “Um, here?”

 

Stephanie shrugs lightly. “Not if it’ll be hard on Cady. Not to impose, but maybe you could do it at her house.” _Oh, Stephanie. Bad, bad choice of words._ “If you want.”

 

There’s another weird pause. Regina looks downright sheepish.

 

“Yeah, I’ll ask,” Janis squeaks out, overwhelmed by it all.

 

And so she does, only after debating with herself for an hour over the implications of that. A birthday sleepover at Cady’s. Hello, disaster. But perhaps it’s a disaster Janis wouldn’t necessarily mind finding herself in.

 

Contradicting her own heart yet again. Well, whatever. It might not be so bad.

 

Except it definitely could end in total freaking chaos.

 

Janis texts Cady anyway, feeling like her body is being piloted by someone else.

 

Predictably, Cady is ecstatic. She replies with so many excited emojis and exclamation points that Janis wonders if maybe Damian is on to something.

 

They switch to their group chat to include him, and Cady disappears for a few minutes to talk to her mom about it. Damian privately sends Janis a smirk emoji and she replies with a middle finger one. He sends a kiss. She ignores it.

 

Cady tells them it can happen, and Janis’s heart almost flutters out of her chest. They plan to go out to eat that evening then return to Cady’s house for the night. They’re lucky it’s a Friday, Cady says, because her mom is going to make extra special birthday brownies for the club to celebrate. Janis can’t talk her out of that one, so she settles for it reluctantly.

 

And if she knows Sonja Acquino, there’ll be streamers and balloons, too.

 

Birthdays for people like Janis always seem to be more about the people around them. But if it’s these people, maybe Janis can deal for a day.

 

She goes to bed feeling a little hopeful. For once, maybe it’ll be a good birthday.

 

One worth remembering for positive reasons.

 

* * *

 

Janis wakes up to multiple texts from Damian, sent after she went to sleep.

 

 

Janis rolls her eyes. _Nothing_ is going to happen between her and Cady, no matter how much he prays to George Michael. Now that she’s awake and remembering, she regrets it. Because now she’s going to spend the entire day anxious that Damian is going to do something or that he’ll turn out to be right. What _if_ something happened?

 

It’ll be quite a birthday, that’s for sure. Janis doesn’t necessarily think a romantic revelation would be a great present, though.

 

Regina is already awake, to Janis’s surprise, downstairs on the couch. “You look miserable,” is how she decides to address Janis’s entry.

 

“Help me,” Janis moans, flopping over the back of the couch and putting her head in Regina’s lap. “I’m having that sleepover and Damian made it sound like something will happen between me and Cady and I’m scared that he’s right and I think I should call it off.”

 

Regina awkwardly pats her head. “There, there, lesbian.”

 

Janis huffs and sits up, tossing her hair out of her face. “What do I do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Regina says. “What do you wanna do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Janis echoes, rubbing her temples to ward off a headache.

 

“Like I said, if he’s your friend, he won’t tell her,” Regina reminds her. “A real friend wouldn’t do that. And if he’s being weird about it, tell him to knock it off. That he’s freaking you out.”

 

“I’d feel like such a bitch, though,” Janis murmurs.

 

“Why?” Regina raises her eyebrows. “Assert your boundaries, sister.”

 

Janis grins a little, rubbing her arm where Regina just poked her. “I guess so. I don’t know. I’m not good at confrontation when it comes to my friends.”

 

“I yell at Gretchen and Karen all the time,” Regina tries to soothe, only earning a pointed look. She raises her palms. “I know, I know. Not cool.”

 

Janis sighs, feeling kind of sick. “I know he’s just trying to encourage me crushing on her, but I dunno. This is why I didn’t want him to know. I figured he’d…make it weird.”

 

“For all you know, he could be doing the same thing for Cady,” Regina muses. “Like, if she has a crush on you and he knows. He could be all over this for both of you. But you shouldn’t have to be nervous on your birthday, so tell him to just be chill.”

 

Janis snorts. “This is Damian we’re talking about. He doesn’t know what chill means.”

 

“Him and Gretch would get along,” Regina murmurs, then falls quiet. Janis yearns to ask what things are like in Plastic world now that Regina is changing, but can’t find the words. Gretchen and Karen seem loyal as sin, though. Janis hopes, if she hasn’t already, that Regina is able to apologize for however she’s treated them. Apologies are hard, especially when directed at the people you care about.

 

“I’m gonna eat,” she announces, rising from the couch. “Want anything?”

 

“Pop-Tart,” Regina asks meekly. “Strawberry.”

 

Janis gets her one, and comes back with a bowl of Lucky Charms. Regina lets her pick the TV channel, and they eat in silence, unperturbed by the other’s company.

 

It’d be significantly more of a disaster if the sleepover was at their house, so Janis is assured about that. She can’t imagine how painful it would be for Cady to step foot in this mansion, her heart and mind flooded by memories of her friendship with Regina. So it’s just easier to spend the night at her house. Janis is okay with that.

 

And she’d be nervous about it regardless of whether or not Damian knew about her crush. Her biggest fear is something happening without him intervening. She doesn’t know what to expect if it did. All she knows is that it might ruin everything. And it’d probably be her fault.

 

* * *

 

Sharon comes for her visit the day before Janis’s birthday. They hug at the door, then Sharon produces a card in an envelope, handing it to her with that familiar Sharon mischief in her eyes.

 

After the general evaluation, Sharon asks Janis if she wants to get early dinner. She does, of course, and dons a jacket. They’re uncharacteristically quiet in the car; it’s like they both are feeling the melancholy weight of another birthday on the horizon. Neither really know how to process Janis getting older.

 

They get burgers with malt shakes and it’s messy and delicious. They used to do this all the time when Janis was younger and in between houses. Sharon likes to bend the rules for her a little, but Janis will never muster the courage to ask why she’s different from everybody else.

 

“How do you feel about your birthday this year?” Sharon asks, sipping her shake.

 

Janis sighs, leaning back in her chair. “Weird. As usual.”

 

Sharon smiles sympathetically. “You gonna do anything fun?”

 

“Yeah, my friends and I are gonna get pizza,” Janis informs her. “Then we’re having a sleepover.”

 

Sharon hesitates before saying, “Will Regina be there?”

 

“No,” Janis snorts, amused. “Not because we still hate each other. It’d just be awkward. She’s not friends with my friends, especially not Cady. So it’s whatever.”

 

Sharon studies her for a moment, deliberating her next question. “Do you want her to be there?”

 

Janis shrugs lightly, chewing her nail. “I mean, I dunno. Kind of. She’s getting better. But not enough for her to join me and my friends. It’s too soon.”

 

Sharon nods her understanding, then says, “You gonna finish your fries?”

 

Janis was saving the rest for her. She gladly slides them over.

 

When they arrive back at the house, Janis doesn’t leave the car right away, and Sharon doesn’t unlock it for her. It takes Sharon a bit to say, “I’m really happy you get to spend tomorrow with your friends.”

 

“Me, too,” Janis murmurs, throat prickly.

 

Sharon rubs her knuckles against Janis’s cheek. “Why do you look sad?”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “You know I hate my birthday.”

 

“Yeah,” Sharon whispers. “I hope you don’t hate this one, though. Try to enjoy it. You only turn seventeen once.”

 

Janis laughs, then leans across the console to hug her.

 

Later at bedtime, she opens the card. It’s a funny cartoon of Snoopy and Woodstock from _Peanuts_ , Janis’s favorite comic when she was little. Inside with the sweet message is a crisp one dollar bill, Sharon’s special Janis birthday tradition since she turned seven.

 

Janis still has the first dollar. Now she has eleven Sharon dollars. She’s never had the heart to spend a single one.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the slowest slow burn continues!

When Janis looks at herself in the mirror the next morning, she is relieved to see she doesn’t look any older. But how she looks and how she feels are two different things, though you could argue she’s felt “old” since she was around eleven.

 

There are purple balloons lining the staircase banister, and a vase of yellow roses with baby’s breath greet her on the counter next to a plate of waffles. Stephanie gives her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before she sits down to eat, and Janis is pleasantly surprised that she’s not currently on fire with embarrassment.

 

Regina comes down and takes one look at the flowers and wilts like one of the petals. But she hides it well so her mother doesn’t see. Janis still notices the envious glint in her eyes.

 

Needless to say, Regina is quiet during the drive to school. She does, however, utter a “happy birthday, Janis,” as Janis is climbing out of the car.

 

“Thanks,” Janis says softly, and Regina returns her small smile.

 

At her locker, Damian and Cady tackle her with hugs and an obnoxious rendition of ‘Dancing Queen’ that makes Janis stick her head in her locker out of shame. Damian makes her wear a plastic tiara all morning, earning her lots of funny looks that she ignores.

 

During lunch, Taylor Wedell wanders over to offer a big cupcake she made just for Janis, and Janis begs Damian not to start singing. But she hugs Taylor and lets her sit with them, splitting the sprinkled cupcake with all of them.

 

After the final bell, Damian and Cady nearly drag Janis to the auditorium, where their friends—Janis’s friends, too, she reminds herself—are waiting. They’re met with applause and cheering and Sonja barrels up to give Janis a hug. Everybody is really happy to see her, and she tries to be okay with that. All this attention and love is foreign to her.

 

There’s snacks and more cupcakes, the mini ones that fit whole in your mouth. Janis eats five in a row because she just doesn’t care.

 

It’s a pretty fun party. Janis isn’t _opposed_ to all these kids celebrating her, but it’s definitely a new and interesting experience. When she leaves, arms around her friends’ shoulders, she is actually rather content. And, miraculously, still hungry.

 

“I cannot believe they all cared enough to throw me a party,” Janis muses once they’re in the cozy cab of Damian’s truck, Cady next to her.

 

“Of course we did,” Cady says incredulously. “You’re cool. We love you.”

 

Janis grins and lifts a shoulder sheepishly.

 

They drive downtown and wander for a bit, since Damian has to walk off the sugar before he’s ready for pizza. They walk around Grant Park, where springtime is beginning to bloom. Snowy patches remain on the ground, and it’s still chilly out, but Janis can see grass and flower buds sprouting. She’s always preferred spring and autumn over anything else.

 

Cady looks up other things they can do in the city, inhaling dramatically when she discovers teens can get into the Art Institute of Chicago for free. Janis doesn’t believe her, thinking it’s a scam or trick of some sort, but the only way to know for sure is to just go. So they trek across the rest of the park and approach the giant building, Janis a bit shell-shocked with anticipation because she’s obviously an art nerd at heart.

 

They have to provide ID to prove they’re under eighteen, and the guy at the front office wishes Janis a happy birthday. Glowing a little as they enter, her stomach drops a thousand feet in the best possible way. The last time she went to a museum, it was on a third grade field trip, and it ended with her throwing a fit because she wasn’t allowed to touch a naked lady statue.

 

It has been a solid ten years since then, and Janis is instantly overwhelmed by a new sense of appreciation for the art surrounding them.

 

They grab a map to figure out where they’re going, then head left. Damian and Cady are clearly not as into art as Janis is, so she’s grateful they’re doing this for her. But they seem interested the more they stroll around, especially as Janis gets increasingly excited about stuff.

 

She lets herself get lost in the art, stopping to read about or just admire things up close. She’s never been able to appreciate more than just paintings, and now that she herself is an artist it has a different meaning for her.

 

“This is cool,” Cady whispers to her when they’re sitting down on a bench in a hallway.

 

“Yeah?” Janis asks, a bit self-conscious.

 

“Totally,” her friends chorus at the same time, and she grins.

 

“We’ll do other fun things after this, I promise,” Janis assures, so they don’t start to resent her, even though this was Cady’s idea.

 

“It’s _your_ birthday,” Cady says, and Janis is thrown by the reminder. Her birthday hasn’t ever felt like hers. Now that she’s getting to celebrate it how she wants, with people she loves, it’s strange to realize it really _is_ her birthday, and always should have been.

 

“Can we still get pizza, though?” Damian asks, and Cady reaches behind Janis to shove him.

 

The museum closes at five, so they weren’t there for long, but Cady tells Janis they can come back. Janis says she can go by herself, and Cady scoffs in indignation at the idea. She hugs Janis as they’re walking out and says, “Where you go, we go.”

 

Except she knows that when she leaves, they won’t be able to follow.

 

They track down the best pizza place in town and eat an entire pepperoni pie among the three of them. It’s by far the best pizza Janis has ever had.

 

They drive back to the George’s, since Janis has to pack up for the sleepover. Damian parks at the curb and she hops out, promising not to take too long, and bounds back up the steps to the front door.

 

She doesn’t know why she holds her breath when she goes inside, but Stephanie happens to be coming downstairs with a basket of laundry. “Hi!” she chirps. “How’s your day been?”

 

“Good,” Janis says truthfully, kissing her cheek. “I gotta pack for the sleepover.”

 

“Oh, that’s right. Oh, wait, do you know where Regina is?”

 

Janis freezes on the step and turns to look at Stephanie. “Uh, no,” she tells her. “I was with my friends after school. I don’t know where she went.”

 

Stephanie pouts. “She’s supposed to come right home after school.”

 

Janis bites her lip. “I’ll call her,” she offers. “She might pick up if it’s me.”

 

Which is something she never imagined was possible, that the chances of Regina answering Janis’s call were greater than answering her own mother’s. Janis dials Regina as she walks in to her room, tossing her backpack on her bed.

 

Regina picks up on the fourth ring. “What?”

 

“Where are you?” Janis demands, putting her on speaker. She’s not too worried, figuring there is a perfectly reasonable—in Regina’s mind—rebellion happening here.

 

“I’m at Gretchen’s,” Regina says, sounding surprised at Janis’s tone. “Sorry.”

 

Janis doesn’t believe her, but isn’t in the mood to press it, or taint her birthday with nonsense. “I just got home and your mom didn’t know where you were. You should text her.”

 

Regina snorts. “I’m sixteen. I can do what I want.”

 

“There’s rules, you know,” Janis reminds her, emptying her backpack to replace it with clothes.

 

Janis can just _hear_ the eye roll. “Right. Okay. Whatever.”

 

“You okay?” she has to ask, because Regina hasn’t been snippy in a while.

 

“I’m fine,” Regina replies curtly. “Have fun at your sleepover.”

 

She hangs up before Janis can respond to that.

 

Sighing, Janis gathers the rest of her things and goes back downstairs. She informs Stephanie where Regina is and Stephanie says she’ll deal with it.

 

“Anyway,” she says, waving her hands. “Um, I decided to order the cake for tomorrow instead, since you won’t be here to have any.”

 

“Oh, shoot,” Janis exclaims. “My cake. I totally forgot. Sorry.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Stephanie assures, and hugs her. “You just have fun with your friends, sweet girl. We’ll sing to you and have cake tomorrow. If you want.”

 

Janis nods guiltily. “Okay. That sounds great, thank you.” She kisses her cheek again and heads for the door. “I’ll be good,” she promises.

 

“I know you will. Have fun, call me if you need anything.”

 

Janis exhales as she’s walking back to the car, worried about Regina now. Her friends pick up on her altered mood when she slips back into the car, and Cady asks what’s wrong.

 

“Huh? Nothing,” Janis says, because this night will actually be ruined if she brings up Regina in front of these two. She won’t damage this for them.

 

Or herself. She deserves to have the rest of her birthday go well.

 

At Cady’s house, Mrs. Heron has tied balloons to the chairs at the kitchen table, and tells them she bought ice cream. Janis is touched by her thoughtfulness and gives her a hug.

 

Still full from pizza, they hold off on dinner for now, and go upstairs to Cady’s room. Two blow-up beds are already on the floor, and Janis feels an ache of something akin to disappointment. She will definitely _not_ be sharing a bed with her dream girl tonight.

 

She chooses the one by Cady’s desk because of the off chance Cady will wake up in the night and roll over to see Janis sleeping on the floor.

 

Janis and Damian dump their pillows and backpacks on their beds, then the trio head down to the basement, Simon at their heels. Cady turns on the twinkle lights as Damian grabs blankets and Janis picks the movie, and Janis couldn’t be happier to kick off her boots and flop onto the couch, wedged between her two favorite people in the world.

 

At one point they pause the movie so Cady can go upstairs to use the bathroom, and naturally the first thing Damian says is, “Your chemistry today is off the charts. Just an observation.”

 

Janis rolls her eyes. This is what she was afraid of. “Can you not?”

 

“What?” He shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

 

“I know.” She puts a hand on his wrist so he knows she’s not mad at him, just yearning for him to shut the hell up. “I don’t wanna talk about it today.”

 

He blinks in surprise. “You don’t wanna talk about how you have the hots for each other?”

 

“We don’t have… Damian, please,” Janis begs. “I know what you’re doing and I get it. And yes, I like her. I like her a lot. But we don’t know how she feels. I don’t wanna…force anything on her. I’m just glad she’s my friend. And for my birthday, at least, can you not bring it up?”

 

He sees the earnest pleading in her eyes and nods. “Sure. Okay. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine, I just—give us time,” she asks in a murmur, dropping her voice because the door creaked open, signaling Cady’s return. To Damian, time is probably of the essence, but Janis will not be revealing anything to Cady. Not today.

 

“Sorry about that,” Cady chirps, hopping over the back of the couch to take her place. There’s evidently some leftover tension because she picks up on it. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” they chorus at the same time, and she raises an eyebrow.

 

“Oh-kay. Weirdos.” Cady grabs the remote to press play, and Janis cocoons inside her blanket as the movie continues, aiming to avoid conversation.

 

Her mind drifts back to Regina and their weird phone call. She knows Regina wasn’t telling the truth, and concludes she’s definitely somewhere she shouldn’t be. Maybe with Shane, or some other guy. Janis doesn’t care who she’s involved with now that she and Aaron are through, but she would like to know if she’s okay or not.

 

Damian retrieves Janis’s phone for her when she asks. “Bored already?”

 

“No. Regina’s acting weird. I wanna check on her.” Janis emerges from her blankets to tap into her texts. Cady makes a disgruntled face, but doesn’t say anything.

 

Janis understands why that would annoy her, hearing that Janis actually cares about Regina’s wellbeing when Regina outed her. Of course Janis hates that it happened and wants Regina to make things right, but that doesn’t mean she can’t wonder what’s currently wrong with her.

 

 

It takes Regina a few, but she eventually responds.

 

 

Janis still doesn’t believe her. She rolls her lip under her thumb, wondering what to do.

 

 

Regina doesn’t ask what she’s doing, simply thumbs-up her message and leaves it at that. It’s not enough to lessen Janis’s worry, but there’s not much she can do. She sighs and puts down her phone, snuggling up to Cady without thinking about it.

 

Mrs. Heron orders in Chinese for them when the movie is over. Damian plops that cursed tiara on Janis’s head again while they eat, and she doesn’t have the heart to argue with him. She feels bad for chastising him even if she was well within her right to do so. It’s not that she’s put off by his perceptiveness, she just doesn’t want to rope Cady into an awkward situation.

 

And, okay, maybe initially she was put off, but she can’t deny that he’s right. About everything. She simply wants to spare Cady the downfall.

 

Cady sticks a candle in Janis’s ice cream as an act of irony, and they sing horribly on purpose. She actually closes her eyes to make a wish when they urge her to, and does so without really thinking twice about it, which surprises her. She blows out the candle and her friends clap. Her smile grows when they both lean in to hug her, and Mrs. Heron takes a picture.

 

Perhaps Janis’s heart grows every time Cady laughs or smiles. She’s falling further down this hole and can’t stop. She really doesn’t want to.

 

Which is horrible and terrifying and gross. She hates that she doesn’t want to. But she hates it more that she can’t be happy or hope for things without the fear of losing them.

 

That was her wish, to stop being afraid. For life to continue working in her favor so she’ll never be scared again. She’s seventeen now. Still a kid. Kids shouldn’t have to be afraid, to wonder where they’re going to be in three months.

 

Stability. That’s what she wants. A stable life. For the ground to settle.

 

After they’re stuffed with food once again, Cady goes upstairs to take a shower while Janis and Damian sit at the table looking through all the pictures they’ve taken today.

 

Janis nearly chokes when Cady comes back, hair damp, cheeks flushed, clad in sweats. Cady could wear a garbage bag and still be the most attractive thing Janis has ever seen.

 

Janis goes to shower then, grateful for the chance to be alone for the first time today. As much as she loves spending time with her friends, she hasn’t had time to just think. She lets the hot water beat down on her face and head, suddenly feeling the weight of living for seventeen god-awful years land on her shoulders. She’s never felt so old yet so young.

 

_Please let seventeen be good,_ she pleads to no one in particular as she’s drying off. _Please. It isn’t much to ask for._ It still feels that way.

 

Janis checks her phone before going back downstairs. Sharon texted to wish her a good one, and she replies with a gif of a penguin wearing a party hat. She texts Stephanie to let her know how things are going, asking if Regina has come home yet.

 

 

Janis heaves a sigh of relief, although Stephanie could be telling a white lie so she won’t worry too much. At least Regina is home and Stephanie doesn’t have to call for a search party.

 

“You okay?” Cady asks when Janis finally returns. “You were gone a while.”

 

“Was I? Sorry.” Janis sits down at the table and puts her tiara back on to make Damian smile.

 

“Work it,” he approves. “Tell me you didn’t hog up all the hot water.” He sits down on her lap and she doesn’t even care, arms around his waist.

 

“Of course not, dearest,” she coos, and he busts up laughing.

 

They’re all tired from their seemingly endless day, so the birthday festivities finally conclude at eleven. They mess around in Cady’s room for a few more minutes before shutting off the lights, then quietly scroll through their phones. Damian says goodnight first, reaching out to squeeze Janis’s foot, which she taps against his forehead.

 

“Goodnight,” she laughs, and he blows her a kiss. “Thanks for a grool birthday, guys.”

 

Cady laughs. “We tried. We love you a lot.”

 

Cady is the last to put away her phone, but Janis lays awake in the darkness, comparing today to last year’s birthday. This was significantly better.

 

Damian begins snoring eventually, and when Janis laughs, Cady does, too. Janis could sense that she wasn’t asleep. She hears the rustle of sheets, then Cady whispering, “Hey. Get your gay ass up here, Sarkisian.”

 

Something inside Janis trembles. She does as she’s told.

 

“Hi,” Cady says once Janis is next to her. She’s grinning like she has a secret.

 

“Hi,” Janis echoes, grinning because she actually does. “What’s up?”

 

“Nothin’. What’s up with you?” She taps Janis’s nose. “You sure you had a good day?”

 

Janis nods. “Absolutely. I had so much fun. Thanks for taking me to the museum. That was so cool. I should’ve brought flowers for your mom or something.”

 

Cady snorts. “Please. You didn’t have to do anything. She’s just happy to have you.”

 

“Okay.” Janis presses her lips together, not going to argue. Cady sighs, and they fall silent, but it’s the comfortable kind. The kind where anything could happen. Maybe anything should.

 

Janis is gripped, very suddenly and forcefully, by the urge to tell Cady. It seems like the perfect moment, doesn’t it? They’re calm. They’re borderline snuggling.

 

“You’re staring at me,” Cady notes, amused, bringing Janis out of her trance.

 

_Yeah, because you’re unfairly beautiful even in the darkness._ “Oh. Sorry.” Janis’s cheeks prickle.

 

“No, it’s fine. Are you okay?”

 

_No. I want to kiss you. Very badly._

 

“Janis?”

 

_Just do it. Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her._

 

Janis does not.

 

“I’m fine,” she lies hoarsely, but Cady’s brow stays furrowed. “Sorry, I just…got caught in a stare. I’m fine. You’re really pretty.”

 

It slips out unintentionally. Cady blinks, then raises her eyebrows, then snickers. “Aw, thanks. So are you.”

 

Janis wonders if Cady can hear her heart pounding. “Caddy?” she says, because right now the concept of shutting the fuck up is nonexistent.

 

“Yeah?” Cady murmurs. So innocent.

 

Then Janis’s throat closes up, tight like someone is choking her. “Nothing,” she rasps out, and climbs off of Cady’s bed. Cady tells her to wait but she returns to her blow-up, trembling.

 

“Okay,” Cady says softly, almost wounded. “G’night, then.”

 

Janis doesn’t respond, having stolen her voice from herself. Cady gets comfortable again and after that she doesn’t try to get Janis’s attention. It takes Janis a long time to fall asleep after that. When she finally slips under, she prays she doesn’t wake up.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to our regularly scheduled angst fest!
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  anxiety/panic attacks

And so Janis is disappointed when she awakens the following morning.

 

She shivers and pulls her blanket tighter around her, trying to keep the memories at bay. God, she really did that. She actually almost told Cady how she felt, but panicked, then made a fool of herself. As soon as Cady wakes up she’ll kick Janis out and tell her to not speak to her ever again. She’d be well within her right, honestly.

 

If it were Janis, she’d be terrified.

 

Someone’s stomach growls, and it isn’t hers. She lifts her head a bit to see Damian stirring on his bed. She glances at Cady’s, and can tell by the haphazard covers she’s not there.

 

Janis sighs and sits up, her head throbbing from the pressure. She rubs her eyes, and a door opens behind her. Cady walks out of her bathroom, startled when she sees Janis is awake. But then she fixes a smile and says in a hushed voice, “Good morning, losers.”

 

“Morning,” Damian grumbles, and Janis waves halfheartedly.

 

Cady climbs back onto her bed and retrieves her phone. Janis does the same, seeing it’s past nine. She takes a Snapchat of the ceiling and sends it to them, and Damian snickers when he opens it. Cady rolls over to Snap Janis, who throws up a sleepy peace sign.

 

Cady doesn’t seem hesitant or annoyed. Maybe Janis dreamt the whole thing.

 

But then Damian gets up to use the bathroom and Cady studies Janis for a minute, and asks in a low voice, “What happened last night?”

 

Janis nearly drops her phone. “Nothing. Sorry. I was delirious.”

 

Trying to pass it off as a joke is futile, because Cady makes a skeptical face, and it’s cuter than it probably should be. “Uh-huh. If you wanna talk about something, we can. I’m your friend, so. It doesn’t have to be weird,” she insists with a casual shrug.

 

Except it is weird. And Janis fucking hates herself.

 

“It’s nothing, Caddy, really,” she groans. Damian happens to walk out then.

 

“What’s nothing?” he says, drowsy eyes suddenly bright with interest, and Janis wants to kick him. Instead she glares at him until he backs down and raises his hands in surrender, walking back to his bed. Again, Cady picks up on the awkwardness.

 

She doesn’t comment on it, though, nor does she continue the discussion. “Y’all want waffles? I make really good waffles.”

 

Damian snorts. “If you call toasting them just right _making them,_ then yes.”

 

Downstairs, they quietly maneuver around the kitchen since Cady’s parents are asleep. Janis sets the table, grateful for the distraction, and Damian feeds Simon. The domesticity makes it easy to imagine the three of them in an apartment one day, or living in the same building and having breakfast with each other. Janis doesn’t know why that’s so comforting.

 

Breakfast is fine. Cady’s waffles _are_ really good. Janis is quiet, both too tired and embarrassed still to speak. She’s afraid all the wrong words will come out and she can’t stop it and will just make it worse. It’s bad enough as it is.

 

To her, at least. Cady is just confused; it’s not like Janis began to say she likes her. She just awkwardly stumbled over her words then randomly told her she’s pretty. She wonders what Cady thinks about that, if anything. It was too weird not to mean something.

 

They lounge around in the basement watching TV and scrolling through their phones. Janis is relieved when Stephanie texts around eleven thirty to ask if Janis wants to be picked up soon. She doesn’t feel as bad she normally would saying yes.

 

She does feel bad, however, when she has to tell her friends she’s leaving at noon. Damian is visibly disappointed and Cady looks puzzled.

 

“Oh,” she says, and Janis avoids eye contact. “Okay. Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah, I just—Stephanie wants me home,” Janis fibs, and they nod their understanding. She’s jittery as she goes back upstairs to Cady’s room, trying to breathe through the anxiety as she’s getting dressed. She realizes as she’s packing up that she forgot her meds at home, so that is pretty self-explanatory. She honestly can’t wait to leave.

 

She hates that she actually feels that away about Cady’s house. She loves being here; it could be classified as a second home to her, truthfully. Now she just wants to run. But that’s her life. She gets comfortable, so she leaves.

 

Stephanie pulls up right at noon, and Janis calls to her she’ll just be a minute. Stephanie gives her a thumbs-up and she goes back inside, reluctantly returning to the basement.

 

“Steph’s here,” she says, and Cady exaggerates her frown, coming over for a hug. “Sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine.” Cady squeezes her, then lets Damian have a turn. He pulls back to cup Janis’s face and loudly kiss both her cheeks.

 

“Thank your mom for me,” Janis tells Cady. “I would but she’s still asleep.”

 

“Will do,” Cady promises as Janis bends down to scratch Simon’s ears in farewell.

 

Her friends look so small and sad when she reaches the top of the stairs again, waving down at them. They wave back and she hears Damian dramatically pretending to sob as she heads for the door, heaving a sigh when she walks out.

 

“Hey, hon,” Stephanie greets as Janis climbs into the passenger’s seat after dumping her bag and pillows in the back. “How was it?”

 

“Great,” Janis says, buckling her seatbelt, and means it. Right up until she ruined it.

 

And there she was thinking Regina was somehow going to. Maybe this is karma.

 

Or maybe it’s just a sign that Janis needs to _not_ be in love with Cady. A sign that life is going to begin unravelling just like it always does when she’s happy.

 

This is the universe’s present to her. How fitting.

 

“Your leg is going a mile a minute,” Stephanie is saying, concerned.

 

“Huh? Oh.” Janis blushes and forces her vibrating leg to come to a halt. “I forgot my meds. I’m fine, though,” for Stephanie had gasped, “I’m fine.”

 

“You should’ve told me, I would’ve brought them with me,” Stephanie says, and doesn’t sound the least bit angry with Janis, but the implication Janis did something wrong is the trigger.

 

Janis starts crying, too suddenly for her to fight it, and her first instinct is to apologize. “Sorry,” she weeps, as Stephanie quickly looks for a place to pull over. “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

 

But she’s not fine, and her body feels like it’s collapsing from the inside out. This is what goes wrong when she’s off her meds: her brain goes too fast and she can’t get a hold on it. The rest of her then follows suit, and she imagines it’s the same as losing control of a car and reeling at top speed towards your inevitable death.

 

Stephanie parks in the lot of a strip mall and knows to unsnap Janis’s seatbelt so she won’t feel even more suffocated. “Honey, look at me,” Stephanie says, hand on her shoulder.

 

Janis doesn’t know why she’s crying. Her face is wet, she’s mumbling incoherently, and she is shaking like it’s below freezing in here. All she can think about is how stupid she is and how it would be beneficial for everyone if she just dropped dead and _how could she do this to Cady?_ and she’s scared of how bad it hurts but she deserves it, right? Pain, pain, and more pain, she only ever gets pain. But it’s always her fault.

 

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, barely able to see through her blurred vision.

 

“Shhh, don’t be sorry. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

 

It seems like such a huge task and she battles her way through it, but she manages to at least try. Stephanie praises her and encourages her to do it again, and she does. Eventually, slowly but surely, she stops crying long enough to just focus on breathing. It still hurts, and the pain in her chest makes her wonder if she’s going to have a heart attack next, but she does it.

 

As visibly distressed as she is, Stephanie remains calm, knowing if she freaks out, that’ll make it worse. She rubs Janis’s back when Janis leans forward with her head between her knees as she attempts to steady herself, now feeling dizzy.

 

The world stops spinning when she sits back up, surprised to see cars are still moving and the day is still shining when everything just felt borderline apocalyptic.

 

“I like Cady,” she hears herself say, voice robotic and disconnected. She just feels the need to say it. “I’m sorta in love with her. Because I’m gay. I dunno if you knew that, but I’m gay.”

 

Stephanie blinks, clearly not expecting that, then says, “I did not know, but okay.”

 

Janis looks at her. “Do you care?”

 

Stephanie touches her chin. “No. That doesn’t change anything.”

 

Sharon said the same thing.

 

Janis nods, then looks down at her quivering hands. “I’m cold,” she murmurs, so Stephanie is more than happy to turn on the heat.

 

“Do you need a minute, or do you want to go home?” she asks.

 

“Home,” Janis murmurs, rubbing her temples, a post-panic migraine already forming.

 

They arrive at the house a few minutes later, and Stephanie tells Janis to head on in while she grabs her stuff. Janis doesn’t argue, sluggishly making her way up the stairs to the front doors. Henry is waiting when she walks in, and she sits down on the floor to snuggle him.

 

Stephanie comes in a moment later, shutting the door behind her. Janis gathers the dog in her arms to follow her upstairs, where she can hear music in Regina’s room.

 

She’s never been so happy to return to hers, and lets Henry sit on her bed with her. Stephanie gets her a cup of water, which she guzzles, not realizing how thirsty she is until now. “Thanks,” she murmurs, passing the cup back. Stephanie remembers her meds then, and gets those for her, too.

 

“You okay?” Stephanie asks, noticing Janis’s hands are still a little shaky.

 

“Yeah, I just need to lie down for a bit,” Janis admits, removing her boots before flopping back on her pillows. A wave of exhaustion hits her right after, and she can’t even open her eyes.

 

She listens as Stephanie covers her with her duvet then refills the cup to leave it on her table. She collects Henry and turns off the bedside lamp, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she leaves, closing the door softly. Regina’s music quiets a minute later, as if Stephanie asked her to turn it down because Janis is resting.

 

Janis drifts for a while prior to actually falling asleep. She hasn’t broken down like that in ages; her mind is just wiped out, to the point where she doesn’t even dream.

 

It’s late when she wakes up, heavy and groggy and disoriented. She hears her phone chiming in her backpack, on the floor where Stephanie propped it against her bed, but cannot move a muscle to retrieve it. At some point she swims to the top of consciousness and can finally grab the cup to chug it again, and her throat doesn’t feel so sore after.

 

She makes her way out of her bed to peel off her clothes and step into the shower, warmed by the hot water. She feels somewhat alive again as she tugs on sweats and returns to her comfy bed with her phone. She doesn’t have the energy to answer texts, but likes the message Cady sent asking if she could at least notice it if she got home okay. Cady sends a heart.

 

Janis’s stomach rolls, remembering what she did. God, she cannot _believe_ that happened. She thought she couldn’t get any more pathetic. But then she went and had a panic attack in Stephanie’s car, so. Double pathetic.

 

Starving too much to ignore it, she wanders downstairs, where, to her delicate surprise, Regina and her mother are on the couch watching a show together. Regina hears her walk in and then so does Stephanie, who hops up to see what Janis needs.

 

“Hi, sweetie,” she says, enveloping her in a hug. “You okay? Are you hungry?” Janis nods, and Stephanie has her sit down while she gets her something from the kitchen.

 

Regina pats the spot next to her, and Janis willingly goes to sit. Regina covers her lap with the blanket, a soft and unexpected gesture.

 

“Where were you, really?” Janis asks, low so Stephanie doesn’t hear.

 

Regina looks startled, not having thought Janis would bring it up given her current state. “I told you, I was with Gretchen,” she insists, but won’t look at Janis.

 

“You can tell me,” Janis murmurs. “I won’t snitch. I just wanna know.”

 

Regina wrinkles her nose. “Why?”

 

“You sounded weird,” Janis tells her again.

 

Regina huffs, rolling her eyes. She glances at her mom, busy in the kitchen, and sighs. “Fine. I was with Shane,” she mutters, and Janis arches an eyebrow. “What? He caught me after the bell on Friday and invited me over, so I went.”

 

Something about it still feels off to Janis, but she can’t pinpoint what it is. “Okay,” she says, not possessing the will or energy to argue. But she’ll sleep better tonight knowing the truth.

 

She goes back to bed after she’s eaten, too exhausted to remain awake. She tells Damian and Cady goodnight, thanking them again for spending time with her on her birthday, then promptly falls asleep barely five minutes later. She can have regrets tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

She definitely does, and the first thing that comes to mind is even more self-loathing. She is so relieved it’s Sunday, and stays in bed longer than necessary mostly because she’s mortified to even exist. She cannot believe she forgot her meds. Way to freaking go.

 

Regina pokes her head in around noon to see if she’s awake. “Hey, loser,” she greets.

 

“Hey, asshole,” Janis jabs back, but they smirk at each other.

 

Regina wanders over and motions for Janis to scoot, then crawls in next to her. “What the hell happened yesterday?” she asks, inspecting her nails.

 

“What do you mean?” Janis yawns.

 

“Mom said you weren’t feeling well but didn’t say why,” Regina explains. “You looked like you’d just dug yourself up from a grave. Still kinda do.”

 

That earns her a flick to the forehead, which she accepts without protest.

 

Janis sighs and hugs her pillow closer. “I forgot my meds the other day,” she whispers, cheeks turning red. “And then I…” closes her eyes, inhales, “I did something stupid at Cady’s, and… It was weird and dumb. So Mom came to pick me up and I just…broke down. I dunno.”

 

It takes her a moment to realize what she just said. “Your mom,” she corrects gruffly. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Regina murmurs, taken aback, looking like she wants to react negatively but is really trying not to make Janis feel worse. “You wanna talk about it?”

 

Janis exhales, still tired. She contemplates for a minute. Regina knows she likes Cady—Janis remembers the big reveal that day in the car when Regina figured it out—but Janis is nervous to tell her exactly what happened on Friday night. _Nothing_ really happened, but that’s the point—and Janis’s shame skyrockets even higher.

 

Regina gasps softly. “Oh my God, did you and Cady kiss?”

 

“No,” Janis squeaks. “But…I don’t know. It was weird. I went to tell her how I felt, but panicked and chickened out. She was super confused. And now I feel like shit.”

 

“You aren’t gonna try again?” Regina asks gently.

 

Janis shakes her head. “No. It was probably a sign from the universe that I shouldn’t like her at all.”

 

“Don’t be dramatic,” Regina deadpans. “So what if you flubbed the first time? Tomorrow could be your second chance. Obviously it’s important to you.”

 

Janis shrugs. “Not really. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just was overwhelmed by a sense of _needing_ to tell her, like things would work in my favor and I’d have a girlfriend right now. But as much as I like her, I…I don’t want that.”

 

Regina looks perplexed. “Why the hell not?”

 

“Because, I—this is what happens,” Janis insists tearfully. “I get comfortable. I love someone. I feel safe somewhere. But then I get scared out of my mind that it could be permanent because I don’t know what permanence is like. How do you live here, go to school, and see your friends without worrying it all could be taken away from you?”

 

Regina gets this look on her face like she’s just now realizing how lucky she is. Janis isn’t mad or frustrated, but it’s interesting to watch someone’s privilege dawn on them.

 

“I—I’ve never really thought about it,” Regina admits sheepishly.

 

“It’s okay,” Janis tells her, truly not wanting her to feel bad, because it’s not worth it. People being blissfully unaware of how lucky they are isn’t new to her.

 

“I’d say I get it but I don’t,” Regina confesses, and her honesty means more to Janis than if she did say that. “It does make sense, though. Do you…do you think you won’t stay here?”

 

Janis lets her silence speak for her, and Regina presses her lips together. “We wouldn’t mind if you did,” she says, and Janis knows _we_ really means _I._ “My parents love you. And…I dunno if it’s jumping the gun to call us friends, but you’re my friend. You’ve done a lot for me and I think you know that. So…I’d sorta miss you.”

 

Her voice is strained with hidden emotion but Janis hears the sincerity in every word. She puts her hand on top of Regina’s. “Thanks. I’d sorta miss you, too.”

 

Regina grins feebly. “So. Anyway, I wouldn’t weigh what _didn’t_ happen between you and Cady as some sign that it’s all falling apart. So you did an awkward thing, so you forgot your meds… That all sucks and I’m sorry. But personally I wouldn’t lose hope over that.”

 

“You’re not me,” Janis reminds her softly. “I didn’t have much hope to begin with.”

 

“I don’t believe that,” Regina counters lightly, and Janis raises her eyebrows. “I see how happy you are with my parents. You talk to them more than I do. And you’re unapologetically yourself when you’re with your friends. You seem better than you were when you came here. You don’t see how hopeful you look when you’re happy, which you definitely weren’t in November. And I had a big part in that, I know, but… You do have hope. And you share it with people when they need it. I needed it, so you shared it with me.”

 

Janis’s throat is tight. She can’t argue with her, though—Regina also wouldn’t be different if Janis hadn’t come around. Her purpose for being here wasn’t about helping the Georges find themselves, but maybe they did because she found herself in them first.

 

Specifically Regina. A tough, withdrawn bitch nursing an attitude and a broken heart.

 

“So don’t give up just yet,” Regina is saying. “We need you. You need you.”

 

Which translates again to _I need you,_ but being reminded Janis needs herself is alright, too. If you had told her she’d ever reach this point with Regina, she’d laugh. She’s glad to be wrong.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only 10 more updates! cannot believe we’re almost there. wouldn’t be without all your love and support!!

Janis really doesn’t want to leave the car.

 

“I don’t know how it’s gonna feel,” she admits when Regina asks what’s wrong. “It’s been, like, a day, and she probably is just wondering where I’ve been—”

 

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Regina interrupts. “If you’re so bothered by it, get her alone and talk in private. But if you told her you’re fine and weren’t sure what the hell it was, it shouldn’t be a problem. Like, it’s Cady.”

 

When Janis looks at her, her jaw tightens, but she says, “You know, she’s very forgiving.”

 

For the most part, yeah. Janis just doesn’t want things to be weird. She isn’t sure she’s strong enough to try again. She’d rather suffer like this than Cady reject her and it to all go to shit.

 

She tries to think about what Regina said yesterday as she’s walking into school, hands jittery. Damian sneaks up on her at her locker, and she’s ridiculously relieved to see he’s alone. “Hi,” she says, and he taps her on the nose. “Where’s Caddy?”

 

“Coming henceforth,” he replies. “Are you okay?”

 

She knows what he means, and sighs. She closes her locker and leans against it. “I guess.”

 

“That’s not a satisfactory answer.”

 

She sticks her tongue out at him. “I’m fine _today._ ”

 

He frowns, concerned. She presses her thumb to the furrow in his brow to smooth it out, and it does when he smiles, but his eyes are still worried.

 

“I forgot my meds on Friday, and had a panic attack when Stephanie picked me up,” she finally tells him, and he gasps. “Yeah. I’m fine now. There was no way to prevent it.”

 

He doesn’t ask questions, merely pulls her into a much-needed hug.

 

Cady walks up a minute later, squeaking when Damian wordlessly tugs her into the embrace. Then she laughs, and so does Janis. It’s a really good hug. And Janis really loves their dumb little unit.

 

Which can’t be secure or whole unless she talks to Cady. It doesn’t have to be a long or even a particularly revealing conversation, she just feels like they have to clear the air.

 

So during break Janis asks if they can talk, hiding her shaky hands in her jacket sleeves. Cady follows her to a stairwell, appearing anxious. “What’s wrong?” she asks, and Janis is surprised she doesn’t outright say _with you._

 

She would if she were Cady. But she’s not. Because Cady is Cady. And Cady is kind.

 

“Nothing, I just—I’m really sorry,” Janis murmurs, shrugging. “About what happened on Friday. I don’t know what the fuck I was doing. I made it weird and I’m sorry.”

 

Cady shakes her head and grabs Janis’s hands, somehow finding them in her sleeves. “What are you apologizing for? I’m not mad at you.”

 

“You’re not?” Janis says doubtfully, as if Cady would ever lie to her.

 

“No,” Cady insists. “You’re fine. Are you okay, though? You weren’t around on Saturday.”

 

Janis really likes the way Cady’s hands gently grasp hers. Cady has soft fingers. But that isn’t important right now. Janis is getting distracted.

 

“I’m fine,” she says, a tad belatedly. She won’t tell Cady what happened to her—it was weirdly easier to share it with Damian. She’s afraid, stupidly, that Cady will think she’s weak, or worse: think she’s responsible for Janis’s breakdown.

 

“Okay,” Cady responds to that, then smiles and kisses Janis’s cheek. “C’mon, let’s go back.”

 

Janis is glad she’s walking behind her so she can’t see how red her cheeks are.

 

Lunch starts off normal, and Janis is relieved equilibrium has been restored (although it didn’t need much restoring to begin with, apparently). But then Aaron Samuels walks up to his table, which is adjacent to theirs, and says hi to Cady, who waves.

 

Okay. He hasn’t done that before. She looks pleasantly surprised, and the light in her big blue eyes is both the prettiest and most painful thing Janis has ever seen. Janis tries not to show it, but she kind of hates Aaron. Which is just great.

 

_Your fault,_ a snide voice reminds her. _This is all your fucking fault. Like everything is._

 

Janis has difficulty finishing her lunch, and Damian definitely notices. Later he comes in to see her during art class, quietly retrieving a stool to sit next to her easel while she works. At first he doesn’t say anything, gauging her mood before deciding he doesn’t really care.

 

“What was that at lunch?” he broaches, and she gives him a deadpan look.

 

“You know what it was,” she mutters, stabbing her palette a bit aggressively.

 

He purses his lips. “You’re jealous of him.” It’s not a question. She keeps her mouth shut. “And you’re more mad at yourself than you are at him.”

 

She huffs. “I’m not even mad at him. He didn’t do shit. I just… I don’t know.” She suddenly has to fight back tears, frustrated and angry. “Some days I want her all to myself. To tell her I’m so much better than him. But I’m not, so I don’t. Not that she likes me like that.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Damian says softly.

 

She looks at him sharply. “You saw the way she looked at him.”

 

He stares at her, opening his mouth to say something then thinking better of it. Instead he tells her, hesitantly, “You can like more than one person at a time.”

 

“Yeah, well, Cady doesn’t like _me_ ,” Janis argues. “Which is for the better, honestly. I’ll probably not even make it to the end of the school year.”

 

He looks wounded by her pessimism. “Don’t say that. Sure you will.”

 

Janis chews her lip so hard she nearly breaks the skin. “I could never be that lucky.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, look. I understand where you’re coming from, but Jesus, Janis. Don’t be so negative. They looked at each other once and now you’re predicting the end of the world. Her friendship with him isn’t going to be the catalyst of you leaving, which isn’t going to happen if I can help it. You can’t let your jealousy get the better of you all the time.”

 

She tastes blood and licks it away. She knows he’s right—as damaged as she is, he’s right. It isn’t healthy to react this way, especially when she pushed Cady and Aaron together. But she severely regrets it, which makes her feel selfish because Aaron makes Cady happy—even as just her crush-turned-friend and study partner.

 

Except Cady still has a crush on him. She doesn’t even have to say it.

 

Janis toes the floor with her boot, brush and palette still in hand. Damian bumps his foot to her leg. “Look, nobody wants you and her together more than me,” he continues. “But you have to make a choice. Either you tell her how you feel or she ends up with Aaron.”

 

“She’ll end up with Aaron either way,” Janis muses bitterly.

 

“You don’t know that,” Damian repeats fiercely. “You’re in charge of your own happiness. Cady could like you back but you wouldn’t know that because you’re so intent on hating yourself and being upset over a situation you caused. So do something about it. All this pining and whining isn’t going to get you anywhere. It’s your choice.”

 

Janis hates being called out, but again, he’s right. She can’t mope around when it’s her fault to begin with, even if she encouraged Cady to talk to Aaron because of her instinct to prepare for the worst. It’s like she tells Regina: no matter what, you’re responsible for your actions.

 

Damian isn’t going to apologize for springing that on her nor does she want him to. She also is aware he’s not mad at her; he just hates to see her beat herself up and wants to guide her towards a better path. That’s what friends do: they help each other improve.

 

She puts her stuff down and goes to give him a hug, sighing into his shoulder. There are lots of things about Cady that she loves, but there’s just as many about Damian. His cinnamon smell, courtesy of the scented tree in his truck; how he always knows what to say to make his friends feel better; his sense of humor and his jokes; how utterly wonderful, brave, and strong he is. It isn’t often you stumble upon the perfect friendship, but Janis got lucky with him alone. Damian Hubbard is by far the greatest guy she knows.

 

If platonic soulmates exist, they’re inarguably each other’s.

 

He’s with her later when Cady tells them she’s going over to Aaron’s to do homework. “Okay,” Janis says, forcing her tone to be neutral. “Fun. Is, uh… Is it like a date?”

 

She only asks to see Cady blush. It was a risk worth taking.

 

“No,” Cady giggles, tucking her hair behind her ear, which is red, too. “No, he just invited me to hang out and stuff. It’s not like that. Not yet.”

 

A piece of Janis’s soul chips away and dies. But she doesn’t let it show.

 

“Cool,” she says, and Damian looks proud of her, but not in a way that Cady would notice. “So, we’ll see you tomorrow, then?” How it still pains Janis to know where she’s headed.

 

“Yeah, of course.” Cady seems mildly surprised Janis had to ask, like Janis expects her to wind up spending the night at Aaron’s. In his bed. Naked.

 

They high-five her in farewell, and Damian pulls Janis away before she can see Cady meet up with Aaron at the entrance. Janis sighs and walks with him to choir.

 

“You okay?” he asks gently, still caring about her feelings.

 

“No,” she admits, leaning her head on his shoulder. He puts his arm around her waist and they walk like that the rest of the way. Damian’s choir friends greet her with smiles and waves since he talks so much about her and Cady, his only other friends.

 

Janis sits in the back and tries not to think about what Cady and Aaron could be doing. Making out in his car or on his couch, schoolwork abandoned. Aaron is one lucky bastard.

 

Janis is sure he’s nice. No, she knows he is. Cady doesn’t bore them with details, but enough for Janis to be assured he’s a good guy. He’s funny, apparently, and laughs at Cady’s jokes. At least someone does, because they’re not very good. But Janis gives Cady credit for trying and would never tell her that to her face.

 

She thinks about her options, disgusted and let down by all of them. She is convinced there is not a single universe in which Cady Heron likes her back, especially when she’s so into Aaron. Janis couldn’t hold a candle to Aaron. Tall and hunky, swoopy hair, shiny eyes, kissable lips. A package deal. Janis might be a lesbian, but she does have eyes.

 

And common sense. Which tells her both a) that Aaron is probably more right for Cady and b) Janis really does need to knock it off when it comes to being envious. She’s embarrassed now that Damian brought it up, and knows it’s true.

 

She wanted this to happen, didn’t she? She told Cady to go for it because she _didn’t_ want her and Cady to happen. Because if they do, they’ll just have to break up. It’s going to be horrible enough saying goodbye as friends. If, indeed, what Janis thinks will happen, happens.

 

She goes back and forth with it. She has good days and bad days, occasionally swapping her hopefulness for negativity. Her instinct is to always brace herself—she cannot help but wonder when everything will go wrong.

 

She has been taught, albeit unintentionally, drilled into her by less than kind adults around her, that she deserves nothing. That she’ll always have to run from things that bring her happiness, that people who dare to love her are wrong. This is her reality that many other kids understand and know too well. That their lives mean nothing. Their only skill is to run.

 

Self-preservation is all kids like Janis have. But they’re only human, after all. Humans want the things that are always so far from reach.

 

And Janis only makes it harder for herself to get to them.

 

* * *

 

Janis goes home with Damian for once, planning on doing their own homework. Their group is usually at Cady’s after school because she has the cool basement, but Damian’s house is fun, too. It’s clean and smells like laundry detergent. They’re greeted by his grandmother and Janis gets smooches on her cheeks then offered something to drink.

 

Damian’s room is cluttered in an organized way, his window open to let in the fresh air. He lets Janis set up shop on his bed while he sits at his desk, and they sip their lemonade and listen to their music as they work. Janis’s actual grades aren’t that bad, as much as she hates learning a bunch of crap she doesn’t care about. She’s still grateful for the distraction, because working on French homework keeps her mind off Cady.

 

Regina texts at some point to ask how things went today, thus reminding Janis anyway. Janis sighs and writes back, telling her they cleared things up. Regina sends a thumbs-up emoji.

 

Well, at least she’s being supportive.

 

With their homework done, Janis and Damian help his nana fold laundry at the kitchen table. It would be boring if she wasn’t so fun to talk to. She reminds Janis a lot of Damian.

 

So it’s not particularly surprising when she asks, “Do you like any boys, Miss Janis?”

 

“Me?” Janis is taken aback. Damian tries not to laugh. “Uh. Not really.”

 

“She doesn’t swing that way, Nana,” he tells her gently.

 

“Oh!” The older woman brightens with understanding, then smiles. “Alright. Any girls, then?”

 

Janis snorts, strangely comfortable with the fact Damian’s nana knows she’s gay. Obviously it isn’t a problem, so she says, “Um, kind of.”

 

And just like Damian, Nana Hubbard suggests, “What about Cady?”

 

Damian barks a laugh. “Ha! See, even my nana knows.”

 

Janis groans and hides her face in a towel. Nana walks around the table to hug her shoulders. “I’m just teasin’ ya, honey,” she chuckles, and Janis emerges with red cheeks. “But do you?”

 

Janis is more amused than anything. “Sure. Yeah, I do,” she concedes.

 

“Finally, she admits it,” Damian cheers.

 

Janis lobs a sock at him. “Hush. I already told you.”

 

Nana is intrigued by this information. “I always thought you and dear Cady would be cute,” she muses cheerfully, folding a shirt. “Damian told me about what that awful Regina did to her and it just broke my damn heart. It shouldn’t matter who she likes. Boys, girls, aliens. Whatever.”

 

Janis deflates. Damian apparently hasn’t told Nana she’s living with the Georges. He gives her a guilty look, and she shakes her head to signal not to worry about it or bring it up.

 

What Regina did was awful, but not Regina herself.

 

“She’s a sweetheart,” Nana is saying, tutting with pity for Cady. “Damian tells me she likes this boy named Aaron. She should like you, Janis.”

 

“What I’ve been saying,” Damian mutters, but Janis laughs lightly.

 

“Yeah, well. It’s okay,” she fibs, trying to believe it. “I mean, her liking Aaron. They’re actually at his house right now, I think. Doing homework.” And sex stuff, maybe. Probably. But maybe. “But, it’s fine. I can deal. I have to.” Janis is aware how bitter she sounds regardless.

 

Nana picks up on this, and quietly processes her words for a minute. Then she says, “But you don’t wanna deal with it,” and it’s so true it hurts.

 

Janis shrinks into herself, ashamed again. “Not really,” she admits softly.

 

Nana comes to hug her again, then takes a seat next to her. “So, you like this girl but you don’t like that she likes someone who isn’t you.”

 

“Basically,” Janis says, leaning back in her chair self-consciously. “And it’s f—messed up because I was the one who said she should try talking to him. I knew I liked her by then and I still did it.”

 

Nana nods like that makes sense. “Is it ’cause you’re afraid?”

 

“Of losing her? Yeah.” Janis chews her lip some more.

 

Nana sighs. “You pushed her towards someone else in hopes to make it hurt less. But it seems like you’re only hurtin’ more because she’s happier with him.”

 

Janis fidgets uncomfortably. “Yeah. Except they’re not together yet. But will be soon, I bet.” She doesn’t want to think about that, though.

 

“I mean, I want her to be happy,” she admits, wanting Nana to know she isn’t a selfish monster—or maybe she’s trying to convince herself. “So if Aaron can make her happy, I’ll get over it… But right now I want to be with her. But I fu—ruined our already slim chance by telling her to go for Aaron. Because things working in my favor is new to me, and it’s scary. But it’s stupid since I doubt she could like me, anyway. And she still wouldn’t if she didn’t like him.”

 

“Why do you doubt that?” Nana wonders gently.

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “I’m not good enough for her. Or for anyone.”

 

Nana pinches her chin and lifts it upwards so their eyes meet. “Now I have some doubts.”

 

“Me too,” Damian agrees, and Janis narrows her eyes at him.

 

Nana taps her cheek. “Listen to me,” she asks, and Janis does. “In this life, the only person we need to be good enough for is ourselves. And once we are—and we already are, just by being—loving someone else gets easier. And we can’t compare ourselves to those we love, and we definitely can’t put them on pedestals. Saying you aren’t ‘good enough’ for Cady is like saying she’s already too perfect. But nobody’s perfect.”

 

“The point, Nana?” Damian presses.

 

She holds out a finger to him, and Janis grins. “The point,” Nana says to her, “is that we are all just trying to get by. All we can be and do is our best. You’re the best you’ve been today. And if we truly love someone, and they love us back, that’s all that matters. There is no _good enough_ for anyone. But we do deserve the best. And you, Miss Janis, deserve the best.”

 

“Thank you,” Janis murmurs, still unused to being told she’s deserving of anything. Nana pats her cheek then slides over more towels to fold.

 

Janis mulls that over, understanding it the more she thinks. Cady is just a person like her and Damian; claiming she’s better for whatever reason makes it harder for Janis to believe the two of them could be together, when Cady could be thinking the same thing. We all put ourselves down and hold ourselves to high standards. But all we need to do is strive to be our best, and never assume we’re not enough for someone. We just need to be enough for ourselves.

 

It honestly makes Janis feel better about the situation. She accepts her part in it, as much as it sucks. She’s not as anxious or queasy when she thinks of Cady and Aaron; whatever happens will happen. And life might still surprise her.

 

She does deserve the best. She deserves a stable home and a stable life. Surrounded by only good things and people. She can’t cling to her envy when it only makes her miserable; moving on is the first step, even if it is the hardest.

 

A part of her believes maybe this could turn in her favor. Until then, she’ll just have to breathe.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a lot near the end, so proceed with caution ♡
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  internalized homophobia   
>  abusive father   
>  homophobia   
>  psychological abuse mention

The rest of the month is relatively uneventful aside from an equally uneventful spring break, and Cady starts spending more time hanging out with Aaron after school. She never talks about it, though, and Janis doesn’t ask.

 

Janis is only peeved when Cady bails on going to club the last Friday in March. She doesn’t even say goodbye, just disappears after the bell and never shows up. Damian actually seems bothered, too, and the vibe is off that day.

 

“Where’s Cady?” Sonja wants to know, handing Janis a soda.

 

Janis glances at Damian, unsure if the Aaron thing is supposed to be a secret. “Um. Dunno.”

 

Sonja pouts and sits down on the stage next to her. “She never skips club. If she wasn’t gonna be here, she’s the type to let us know.”

 

“Not today, apparently,” Janis mutters, sipping her soda.

 

“She’s busy,” Damian tells Sonja. “I think her mom had something going on.”

 

He meets Janis’s eyes over Sonja’s head and shrugs. Sonja doesn’t appear convinced, but is satisfied enough with that explanation she doesn’t push it.

 

Janis catches herself checking her phone for texts from Cady as she’s walking home. The feel in the club today wasn’t the only thing that’s a little off-balance; if Janis is being honest, things have been weird for a couple weeks or so.

 

By the time Sharon drops by for another visit the next afternoon, neither Janis or Damian have heard from Cady. Janis tries not to be annoyed, figuring she could very well have other stuff to do—aside from Aaron. God, if they’ve been having sex, Janis literally might puke.

 

“You look disgruntledly disgruntled,” Sharon notes, leaning in Janis’s doorway. Janis quiets her music, not even bothering to pretend she isn’t.

 

She tries to differentiate between jealousy and a mix between concern and frustration, wanting to take Nana Hubbard’s words to heart. She mostly just wants things to feel normal again—if it means Cady pines for Aaron from afar, so be it. That’s better than right now.

 

“My friend likes this guy,” she informs Sharon, who sits down and starts rubbing her socked feet. “So much that she skipped out on our gay club meeting today. It’s on Fridays and she hasn’t missed a single one until today.”

 

Sharon’s eyes get big with contemplation. “Hm. That’s unfortunate. Was she with him?”

 

“I guess.” Janis shrugs. “They’ve probably been screwing for weeks.”

 

Sharon rolls her eyes. “Okay. Do you know him? Is he a good guy?”

 

Janis sighs and sits up, then launches into an explanation, starting from the beginning. Sharon is patient, listening to her rambles as best as she can. When Janis finishes, she puts her head on Sharon’s shoulder, pouting. Sharon hugs her and rubs her arm.

 

“ _And_ you like her,” Sharon says, and Janis is startled, because she never once said that. Though it probably didn’t really need to be said.

 

“Yes,” Janis mutters reluctantly. “I do.”

 

“Aw, honey.” Sharon squeezes her. “I’m sorry. I understand why you did what you did, though. That doesn’t surprise me at all. But Damian was right, even if you regret doing it, you still did it and have to just deal with that. You just have to ask yourself where you wanna go from here.”

 

“But I don’t _know_ where I wanna go,” Janis admits. “And if it wasn’t too late before, it definitely is now. They’re probably already dating on the down-low.”

 

“Not to encourage a toxic mindset, but you never know what could happen,” Sharon says. “The two of them could break up and then you’d have your chance to at least tell her. But if they are not, in fact, dating, you still can try. Maybe telling her before it gets serious is the way to go.”

 

“But there’d be no point,” Janis argues. “She likes _him._ And I don’t wanna make things weird if she doesn’t like me back. I don’t want her to know.”

 

“Not unless she does like you back,” Sharon adds, and Janis huffs. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I don’t want you to be frustrated, so that’s my advice. You might feel better just getting it all out in the open. You also should tell her how her bailing on you makes you feel. If she’s a true friend, she would handle it maturely.”

 

“What if she hates me?” Janis murmurs. “I don’t want her to hate me.”

 

“Real friends don’t hate each other,” Sharon reminds her simply, and she sighs.

 

She’s still at a crossroads. It’s do or die, and both options kind of suck. But she does have the ability to choose, and it’s either be miserable and petty forever or work things out.

 

But at the risk of Cady cutting her off? Janis can’t do it. And it’s ironic because isn’t that why it all started to begin with? She wanted Cady to be distant, in hopes to snuff out her crush. But it had the opposite effect on Janis, who’s pretty sure it’s more than a crush at this point. Janis is past butterflies and pink cheeks. It’s scary to realize that.

 

She’s never been in love, so she tries to cut herself some slack at how badly she’s handling it.

 

She’s just terrified to tell Cady the truth. Now that she regrets not being honest in December, it just seems so much more taunting to do so now.

 

And if Cady likes Aaron and is happy with him, who is Janis to ruin it? It’s what she wanted, isn’t it? If things continue reeling in the direction she expects them to, she’ll be gone by summer.

 

Except she does have a say in the matter, more than she originally thought. She can tell Cady. At the very least, she can have this massive weight off her shoulders.

 

What will be worse, Cady politely rejecting her or her never knowing at all? Janis will leave but Cady won’t know. And Janis will carry it with her forever. Yeah. That seems way worse.

 

* * *

 

A week and a half later, Aaron asks Cady out on a date. And Janis still hasn’t told her.

 

“Really?” Janis says, already feeling her body disconnect from itself.

 

“Yeah,” Cady nods, and she looks so happy. It’s horrible. “He asked me right as calculus was ending. We’re going out on Friday night.”

 

Janis bites her tongue. Cady was at last week’s meeting (finally), but Janis can already guess she won’t be there this Friday. She’ll be going home early to get ready.

 

“Where’s he taking you?” Damian asks, since Janis won’t.

 

“I’m not sure, he said he’d look for a place,” Cady sighs dreamily. “I don’t really care where we go, I’m just excited. I’ve been waiting for this.”

 

Janis snorts. “Why didn’t you just ask him out first?”

 

Cady blinks and Damian gives Janis this slight sideways warning look. She’s genuinely curious.

 

“I don’t know,” Cady admits, shrugging. “I guess I just was waiting to be sure he really liked me enough. Like, what if I’d asked him and he said he wasn’t interested?”

 

Janis could laugh. She bites her lip, hard. She wants to make some snide remark about Aaron and Cady making out this past month, but doesn’t. Obviously him kissing her would mean he’s into her. But Janis reminds herself what goes on in her head isn’t reality, and can’t get it mixed up. Aaron could be just as awkward and romantically inept as Cady is.

 

“Well, we’re happy for you,” Damian tells her, and she beams. She looks to Janis for approval, and Janis quickly smiles and nods.

 

“Yeah. That’s way cool. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” She’s such a damn good liar.

 

Regina picks up on her bad mood when she stops at the curb. Janis climbs in and slams the door, feeling like a seething stick of dynamite.

 

“You good?” Regina asks, driving off once Janis has her seatbelt buckled.

 

“No,” Janis deadpans. “Cady has a date with Aaron on Friday.”

 

Regina blows air out of her cheeks. “Whoa.”

 

“Yeah.” Janis doesn’t want to talk about it, and Regina doesn’t say anything more. Janis hates that she’s still jealous—she was at peace for a day and now she hates herself again.

 

She’s reminded again that she and Regina have a lot in common.

 

She breaks down in tears doing her homework, frustrated by a stupid math problem, sent over the edge by wishing Cady was here to help her. She doesn’t sob, but allows tears to flow. She works it out eventually, feeling worse by the minute.

 

Regina must hear her somehow, because she texts to ask if Janis is okay. Janis says no, and Regina tells her to come to her room. Janis abandons her homework and dries her eyes prior to leaving her room. She awkwardly shuffles into Regina’s, where the blonde is lounging on her bed. She waves her over, so Janis goes, feeling like a slug.

 

“I hate everything,” Janis groans, snuggling up with a silk pillow.

 

“Yeah,” Regina sighs in agreement. “Sorry about Cady.”

 

Janis sighs through her nose, biting her cheek. “It’s all my fault. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t told her to talk to him.”

 

“You still wouldn’t be with her if you hadn’t,” Regina says.

 

“No, probably not,” Janis huffs. “And I only did it because I thought it’d make things easier.”

 

Regina studies her for a solemn moment. Then she says, “I know how you feel. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but seeing you with my mom makes me jealous sometimes. That’s why I was so mean to you at first. I thought my parents were replacing me because I sucked so bad. But that’s only because I’ve been so distant. I chose to pull away from them. And obviously you’re not here to be the stand-in daughter, but I can see in my mom’s face how much she loves feeling like a mom again. Things are just…weird for us. But it’s okay that they’re not for you.”

 

Janis thinks about the day last month when they finally celebrated her birthday at home. There was finally cake, and she got a new pair of Doc Martens. Regina made the effort to be there to support her, and it wasn’t terrible. But Janis knows Regina probably too well, and her sad envy was clear in her eyes. Janis gets it now.

 

“We both put ourselves in this situation,” Regina muses. “But neither of us really know how to get out, do we?” She looks at Janis, who smiles dryly.

 

“Nope,” Janis says. “And I think deep down we don’t want to. ’Cause maybe we deserve it.”

 

“To suffer?” Janis nods. “Yeah. Me, especially. I don’t think you do, though.”

 

It’s quiet again for a bit. Janis’s head feels heavy, but her chest is strangely lighter upon being near Regina. She doesn’t know what the future holds for their friendship, but she’s grateful for this right now. Regina is less demonic at school, and hasn’t harassed anyone in months. She’s not necessarily happier, but at the very least she’s no longer taking pleasure in being a scum-sucking life ruiner.

 

“Has Cady ever told you what happened?” Regina asks randomly, and Janis opens her eyes, having slipped into a doze. She shakes her head, and Regina seems surprised.

 

“We don’t talk about it,” Janis tells her. “I don’t ask and she’s never wanted to tell.”

 

“Oh.” Regina looks like she doesn’t know how to feel about that. “Well, do you wanna know?” Which is the trickiest question Janis has ever been asked.

 

Janis already knows Cady is bi, so it wouldn’t be like Regina is outing her all over again. But it hasn’t been shared with her for a reason; Cady just doesn’t want to talk about it.

 

“Well, whatever,” Regina says, because Janis has yet to answer. “It’s my story, too, so. Anyway, we were friends after she moved here. She was around when my mom married my step dad. She was sort of my second in command before Gretchen, but she wasn’t mean.”

 

Janis didn’t think so. She can’t imagine Cady being a true Plastic.

 

“Anyway, she was scared of me, too,” Regina continues. “And when she came out, she said I was the reason she started questioning her sexuality.”

 

From a platonic view, Janis can see why. She doesn’t say that out loud.

 

“I…I was freaked out,” Regina says in a whisper, voice suddenly hoarse. “She was so nervous but finally told me she was bi, then said that, wanting to be fully honest with me. And…the only reason she came out to _me_ was because she… Well, she liked me. And she was hoping that I might… You know. That I’d like her back.”

 

Her face, the complete lack of scorn or disgust in her voice, and the fact she’s even telling her this at all—Janis is gripped by the realization this really is more than just Cady’s story.

 

“And so I was afraid,” Regina continues, sounding small, childlike. “Because up until that point I hadn’t really thought about it, but when she said that… I think I did.” She shuts her eyes tight, tears slipping, and Janis feels like all the air was just punched from her lungs. “Like, I did like her. But I just—y’know, I was afraid to admit it to myself. I’d never liked a girl before.”

 

Her voice catches on a sob but she visibly tries not to break down. Janis doesn’t touch her, or say anything, giving her space and time.

 

“And I did,” Regina sniffs. “I realized in a matter of seconds that I thought she was pretty. Not in a platonic way, but…the way she thought of me. And that I liked being around her. And out of all my friends, she annoyed me the least and made me smile the most.”

 

That sounds like Cady. Janis can wholeheartedly relate.

 

“But my dad—” Regina stumbles again, and she covers her streaming eyes with her hand. “My other dad, he wasn’t… You know, he wasn’t a nice person. He didn’t—doesn’t like people who are different from him. He’s not even religious, but I still remember all the times he’d make fun of a gay couple, or—or be disgusted by lesbians on TV, or whatever. He even told me that if…I ever liked girls, he’d be ashamed of me. That it’d be abnormal. I was _ten_.”

 

Janis reaches for her, crying again herself, and Regina starts sobbing into her neck. Janis just holds her, cheek against her hair. This is a lot to take in, and listening to someone break down over their own repressed feelings and trauma is gut-wrenching.

 

“So when Cady told me,” she hiccups, still clinging to Janis like she’s afraid to let go, “I thought my dad was gonna kill me. Even though by then he wasn’t with my mom anymore, I was afraid he’d know somehow and come kill me. So I got mad at Cady. I told her she was weird and—and she needed to leave. And then I told everyone so they could laugh at her, too. And it’s still the worst thing I’ve ever done to somebody.”

 

Janis squeezes her when she cries some more. It feels like the last few pieces of a really hard puzzle have fallen into place; things Janis have wondered now make sense. She always had a thought that Regina’s father was responsible for her attitude, for what she did to Cady, for how she treated Janis. Janis is more forgiving now that she knows _why._

 

“You’re not abnormal,” Janis murmurs into her hair, stroking her back as she heaves. “If you’re still into girls, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

“I know,” comes Regina’s muffled voice. “But it feels that way.”

 

Janis shakes her head. “I promise it’s not. It took me forever to be okay with it. I’ve lost families because of it, or because they assumed I was gay. So it sucks, I’m not gonna lie. But the good parts about it make the bad stuff…well, not worth it, per se, but they make me want to be even more gay out of spite, you know?” That entices a laugh from Regina, and Janis smiles. “But I get it. And I fucking hate your dad. You didn’t deserve anything he did to you.”

 

It takes Regina longer to repeat, “I know,” and she sounds even less convinced.

 

Her face is wet and red when she emerges, and she dabs her cheeks, sliding away from Janis like she’s embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Janis tells her softly.

 

Regina shrugs, inhaling shakily. “Fuck. That was pathetic. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it wasn’t,” Janis insists. “You’re fine.”

 

“Don’t tell anyone,” Regina says then, looking stricken that Janis knows. “Please. I’m not—I’m still figuring it out. I don’t know what I am. Nobody can know.”

 

“Hey, hey.” Janis touches her face, and she relaxes. “I won’t say anything. Promise.”

 

Regina holds out her pinkie, so Janis loops hers around it, cementing the vow of solidarity. It’s a kindergarten gesture, but it comforts Regina.

 

“I’ve still known, even recently,” she mumbles a few minutes later once she has calmed down. “But I keep pushing it down inside me because I’m so scared of what it means. And I know my mom and Alex won’t care. My mom never liked when my dad said bad stuff about anyone. But I don’t even know what I’d tell them, or how to explain it to myself.”

 

“Well, that’s okay,” Janis assures her. “Lots of people don’t use labels, doesn’t make them any less of what they are. But lots of other people do, and I bet most of them took a while to come to terms to a term or identity that fit them best.”

 

“Did you always know you were a lesbian?” Regina asks quietly.

 

Janis nods. “Yeah. I’ve never liked boys. They’ve repulsed me from a young age.” Regina grins slyly. “But girls… I just love everything about girls. Girls are the best. Girls understand me a lot better than a guy ever could, or has. Plus women in suits are super fucking hot.”

 

They both laugh and Regina nods heartily in agreement. She swipes at her eyes, rolling onto her side to be equal with Janis. “Who’d you tell first?”

 

“Sharon,” Janis says. “She’s the only person I’ve really come out to. Well, no, I told your mom. After my panic attack. I said I’m gay and that I like Cady. And then Damian told his nana I like girls—I don’t think that counts, though. But for the most part I don’t really come out to people.”

 

“It’s scary,” Regina whispers. “Admitting it to someone else is scary.”

 

Janis runs her finger down Regina’s jaw in a sympathetic way. “It’s just me. But, um, I’m proud of you. And it’s totally cool, whatever you are.”

 

Regina sighs. “I don’t even know where to begin. There’s so much to know.”

 

“Yeah. Well, don’t rush it. Take your time with it,” Janis advises her. “You’re only sixteen.”

 

“Most people know by then, don’t they?” Regina says doubtfully.

 

“Some do. Some know as young as five, others figure it out when they’re, like, forty-five. There isn’t an age limit to discovering who you are.”

 

Regina looks scared, like those feelings she had a year ago are rushing back. “I’m still sorry I called you that word,” she mumbles. “It wasn’t you, it was me. And…even if we’re the same, that doesn’t excuse it.”

 

Janis nods. “I know. It’s all good. I forgive you.”

 

She means it. She really does. It feels good to say it, and to be sincere. Regina finds her hand and links their fingers, exhaling heavily.

 

“Thanks,” she says, and Janis rubs her thumb over her knuckle.

 

“You’re welcome,” she whispers back, and though her head is spinning, her heart is full.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cadnis content cadnis content cadnis content. hehe.

On Friday, Cady is a jittery ball of nerves, and Janis is anxious by association. At lunch, Cady is worried about her nails, suddenly disliking the navy color she painted them so they’d match her dress. She holds them out to Janis, asking if they’re okay.

 

“Yeah,” Janis tells her, delicately holding her hands and inspecting her fresh nails. “Caddy, I’m one hundred percent positive Aaron won’t care what color your nails are. They’re fine.”

 

Cady bites her lip, withdrawing her hands to fuss some more. Janis glances over her shoulder, spotting Aaron at his table. He’s laughing with his friends, seemingly unworried about the date. Janis automatically files that as suspicious; surely any guy lucky enough to go on a date with a cutie like Cady would be nervous like she is.

 

Janis knows she definitely would be.

 

She bravely points this out to Cady, saying, “Look at Aaron. He’s chill. There’s nothing to worry about, okay? You’re beautiful and he likes you and it’s gonna be fine.”

 

Cady smiles lightly, then bats her eyelashes. “Aw, you think I’m beautiful, Janis?”

 

Damian chokes on his soda, while Janis nonchalantly brings her can to her lips. “I think you’re gorgeous,” she tells Cady, whose expression falters, shocked by her random suaveness. Then Cady blushes but tries to hide it. Janis grins at her over her soda.

 

Like she predicted, Cady can’t join them this Friday, saying she has to “prepare.” She refers to this date like a piece of schoolwork, something she needs to study for. Going on a date is self-explanatory to Janis. You go to dinner, he gives you his coat, you hold hands and walk around after, then he kisses you on your front porch.

 

Just movie things. Cady really shouldn’t expect much else.

 

If it were Janis, she’d give her the world and then some. But, as established, Janis isn’t him.

 

* * *

 

Janis is still anxious when club is over, and Damian asks if she’s taken her meds. She realizes she hasn’t, but luckily has them with her this time, so he offers what’s left in his bottle of water. She doesn’t feel weird taking her meds in front of him; he has stuff he takes, too.

 

They go back to his house, where they’ve been spending more time lately now that Cady is far too busy with Aaron to invite them over. Janis misses Simon and the video games and the lights in the basement.

 

Despite her meds, Janis still bounces her leg as they do their homework then watch television. Cady sends a few mirror selfies to their group chat asking about hairstyles, and Damian gives her advice. Janis runs her fingers over her side cut, fuzzy because it’s growing in. She buzzes it every once in a while to keep up appearances, but she’s thinking about letting it grow. As for the blonde half, the dye is fading, giving it a warm partial chestnut color in contrast to her dark roots. Then she wonders how she’d look with shorter hair.

 

Her hair right now is down to the middle of her back; she’s too lazy to trim it. She asks Damian what he thinks, and he runs his fingers through it, smoothing out the natural wave.

 

“It’d look good short,” he tells her. “Like, to your chin, maybe. In a couple months the dark part will probably reach it, and then you could cut it.”

 

Janis likes that mental image. She’ll definitely let the side grow. It’s time for something new.

 

Cady sends a picture right before she leaves, and it actually takes Janis’s breath away. Velvet navy dress with no sleeves, a black cardigan to go with her pumps, and her hair is plaited over her shoulder. She’s wearing a necklace with a moon charm, her makeup light but noticeable.

 

“Holy shit,” she and Damian say at the same time.

 

“Unfair,” Janis murmurs, giving the photo a heart. “Truly fucking unfair.”

 

“Makes you wonder what she’ll wear to Spring Fling.”

 

Janis chokes on air. She totally forgot about it. Regina doesn’t have a date so she hasn’t said anything, and Janis is allergic to the posters at school.

 

“With her luck, tonight he’ll probably ask her to go with him,” she mumbles.

 

“Allow me to beat him to it. Janis, will you go to the dance with me?”

 

He smiles cheekily and bats his lashes. She pokes him in the nose and says, “There’s no way in hell I’m going to that stupid dance. Sorry.”

 

He pouts. “But I don’t have a date.”

 

“One, that’s blasphemous. Two, who gives a shit? It’s a dance. Just go by yourself.”

 

He huffs, laying down with his head in her lap. “But that’s embarrassing.”

 

“Since when do you care what other people think?” she demands, genuinely shocked. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I thought we agreed the opinions of our fellow high schoolers don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. If you wanna go, just go. Nobody cares.”

 

“Yeah. I guess so.” He folds his arms, thinking about it.

 

She taps him on the forehead. “If it makes you feel better, Regina doesn’t have a date, either.”

 

He snorts. “I don’t know if I’m surprised or not.”

 

Despite her newfound indifference towards her peers, Regina is still tall, blonde, and beautiful. Most guys drool after her regardless of her history with infidelity. It’s quite funny, honestly.

 

Janis wonders if Regina actually likes the attention she gets from boys. If she ever wishes girls would hit on her instead. Janis hasn’t told Damian anything, because it’s not her place, but she has had a lot to think about the last two days. Regina is the same, only Janis knows her secret and it kind of warps Janis’s perception of her. In a good way.

 

Nana makes them mac and cheese for dinner, and it’s by far the best Janis has ever had, so it must be eaten despite her mild stomach ache over Cady being on a date right now.

 

She really does hope Cady has a nice time and it’s everything she dreamed of. Janis can be a big girl about that. When she thinks about the situation in terms of what’s best for Cady, seeing her as another person with feelings, she only wants her to be happy.

 

Janis’s throat is tight, but she has to be mature. For Cady’s sake, and for her own. Either Janis decides to be honest with her or let it go.

 

Maybe it’d be best for Cady if she never knew. When—if, when, if, when—Janis leaves, she still doesn’t have to know. Janis will just carry the weight of an unspoken confession until it dissolves. It would have to at some point, right? She can’t be in love forever.

 

She cannot imagine _not_ being in love with Cady. Remembering there was a time when the two of them didn’t even know each other is painful; envisioning a future Cady is not a part of is just downright nauseating. Janis knows then she is in too deep, with no hope of getting back to the surface. She hates that she doesn’t want to.

 

So it goes. An endless cycle of pain, either self-inflicted or welcomed.

 

 _You’re fucked up,_ a voice in Janis’s head sneers.

 

 _I’m aware,_ she replies to herself, wishing just for once she could settle on a solution.

 

Damian drives her home as it’s getting dark, and she is glad, at least, to know that things with Damian will never change. She holds his hand because she feels like it.

 

They fist bump before she exits the truck, backpack hitched over her shoulder. He waits til she reaches the house to honk then drive off.

 

At first it seems like nobody is home, but then Stephanie comes down the stairs, shaking her head. She brightens when she sees Janis. “Oh, hi, sweetie.”

 

“Hey. Everything okay?” Because Janis is unfailingly nosy.

 

Stephanie sighs, giving her a quick hug. “Regina’s just mad I won’t let her go out tonight. She wanted to see a movie with her friends but she has homework to do.” She sighs, hands on her hips. “Anyway. How was your day, honey?”

 

Janis shrugs and tells her it was fine, and that Damian’s grandma fed her. Stephanie doesn’t have a problem with that, but she looks contemplative for a moment before asking gently, “You’ve been spending a lot of time at his house lately, do you not go to Cady’s anymore?”

 

“Nah, she’s too busy courting her crush,” Janis huffs, leaving out the fact Cady is with Aaron in particular. “It’s fine, though. Damian’s house is cool.”

 

Stephanie frowns. “Are you guys okay? You and Cady and Damian?”

 

“Of course. She just has better places to be, I guess.”

 

Aaron’s house. Aaron’s bed. Who freaking knows.

 

When Janis goes upstairs, she doesn’t tempt the beast inside Regina’s room, happily going to hunker down in hers. Her wall of sketches has grown; walking in and seeing it reminds her she used to draw Cady all the time. She recovers the sketchpad that has that first drawing, gazing at it somewhat miserably. Cady is beautiful even as a grey sketch.

 

Janis sighs and puts it away, her heart sore.

 

A couple hours later, the doorbell rings, and a minute later Janis hears her name being called. She leaves the cocoon of her duvet and hurries downstairs, where Stephanie is holding open the door. Janis raises her eyebrows, and Stephanie smiles and says, “It’s Cady.”

 

Janis freezes on the bottom step, confused. She sees Cady lean so she’s visible, and waves. Janis blinks, not sure what to make of this. She forces her legs to keep moving til she’s at the door. Stephanie tells Cady it was nice to see her, then leaves them be.

 

“Hey,” Janis greets her friend awkwardly, looking her up and down to check for injury. But she seems fine, and is even more gorgeous in person.

 

“Can we talk?” Cady asks, and her voice is weird.

 

“Sure,” Janis says, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door, knowing Cady didn’t mean she wanted to speak in the Georges’ pristine sitting room. “What’s up? Did it go okay?”

 

“Yeah, it was great,” Cady tells her, but her smile is off, eyes kind of manic. She’s radiating this nervous energy that’s different from earlier. “He took me to this Italian place. It was nice. Then we walked around the city. Then he took me home.”

 

“Cool. Did he kiss you?” Because why not put the last nail in her own coffin.

 

Cady huffs a laugh. “Um. No. He went to, but I curved him. Again.”

 

That throws Janis for a loop. “Again?”

 

Cady inhales. She looks like she’s seconds away from an anxiety attack. Maybe she’s already having one. “Yeah, um. At his house last month, when we were studying, he tried to kiss me. And I left after. But, like, we talked about it and he said he was sorry, and I said I do like him like that but I just needed some time… And. Yeah.”

 

“Oh-kay.” Janis is kind of scared. “So, why wouldn’t you let him kiss you tonight?”

 

Cady stares like she’s trying to telepathically convey a message. Janis doesn’t receive it.

 

“I just didn’t want him to,” Cady eventually says.

 

Janis doesn’t understand. “Why? It was your first date. You’re always supposed to kiss on the first date. And you’ve had a crush on him forever.”

 

“I know,” Cady says softly, looking down at her feet. Janis is utterly perplexed.

 

“Caddy, what’s wrong?” she finally has to ask.

 

Cady takes a deep breath and looks up again. There’s an odd sort of apology in her eyes, as if whatever she is about to say is causing her immense guilt and suffering. “I realized something tonight, something I should’ve realized a while ago, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

 

All Janis can think is, _What the hell?_

 

“Um, so—I don’t really—know how to explain it,” Cady begins anxiously. “First of all, I really do like Aaron. He’s amazing. He’s even better now that I’ve gotten to know him. He dressed up all nice for me and smelled really good and he gave me his jacket. He’s so sweet and funny and I like spending time with him and all…”

 

“But?” Janis presses, not wanting to stand around and wait.

 

“But.” And Cady bites her lip, still giving Janis that look. “The entire time I was with him tonight, I…I couldn’t help but think about you. When he held my hand, I wished it was yours. When we had dinner I wished you were the one across from me. When he went to kiss me, for a second I wanted to think it was you, and almost let him. But then I realized what I was thinking and I panicked, so I didn’t. And then he left and I panicked some more.”

 

Janis’s ears are ringing. Her mind feels disconnected from the rest of her body.

 

“And then—” and Cady’s voice shakes, it trembles the way a wave might before crashing onto shore, “—I thought about it while I was panicking—about _you,_ and I calmed down. And I’m still new to the whole dating thing, but…you shouldn’t think about someone else while you’re on a date. But I did. Repeatedly. Not just wishing you were there, but wishing he was you.”

 

There’s a silence, and all Janis can do is stare, waiting for the cameras or confetti to come out or whatever. But they don’t. Cady’s expression just gets worse.

 

“And it’s…not that I haven’t had a crush on him,” she continues slowly, sounding strained, like she’s struggling to get the words out. “It’s just nothing compared to the crush I have on you.”

 

Another silence, worse than the first one, and Janis feels like she’s hurtling towards a cliff or a tree or something and she can’t find the breaks on this invisible car. And it’s horrible, because shouldn’t this be a sappy romcom moment? Shouldn’t this be the plot twist of the century? Is it not what Janis has secretly wanted for months?

 

“And I don’t know how you feel,” Cady is saying. “And I’m not—I’m not saying this to pressure you into anything, I just—I realized I can’t lie to myself anymore and I can’t lie to you. I wanted you to know just because…I don’t know. You’re my best friend, I feel like I owe it to you.”

 

Cady Heron really is braver and kinder than Janis in every aspect. Janis has been dealing with her truth for months—Cady just realized it and the first thing she did was come and tell her. On the night of her date with Aaron. Janis truly could never.

 

She can’t believe this is happening. Did she hit her head at Damian’s? Did Nana Hubbard put something in her mac and cheese? Did she fall asleep in her room? Is she dead?

 

“You’re the one I actually wanna be with,” Cady admits softly, stepping closer. “Aaron is great. But he isn’t you. And I’m sorry if you’re not ready to hear this and if you don’t like me back that’s totally fine, but I just wanted you to know how I felt. I couldn’t see you at school on Monday, not knowing what I do now. It’d hurt too much.”

 

Janis can’t find her voice for a moment, but dredges it up from the pit in her stomach to say, “It—it’s okay, Caddy,” because Cady’s comfort will forever be most important. “I—I don’t really—I dunno what to say.” She wipes her palms on her shorts, heart beating so fast she feels faint. “Um. Thanks for telling me, I… It doesn’t bother me. At all.”

 

It’s heartbreaking how relieved Cady looks. “It doesn’t?” she breathes, grasping Janis’s wrist.

 

Janis shakes her head. It feels light as air. “No,” she says, grinning the teensiest bit.

 

Now is her chance to basically say the same thing. To admit everything. To unravel at the feet of the one she loves most. The entire universe is at her fingertips; she could do it if she chose. She’d probably have it all afterward. All she’s dreamed of.

 

She hasn’t had much time to decide when Cady is rising up on her toes, cupping Janis’s neck to gently pull her closer. Then Cady’s mouth is on hers, tentative and so soft, like a feather on her lips. Time slows down; it doesn’t exist here. It’s just them and the moon.

 

The kiss itself doesn’t last very long, maybe a matter of seconds, but it feels like forever. Cady pulls away first, noticing Janis is a tad stiff, her thumb brushing her jaw before her hand drops. Janis’s lips tingle from the absence of Cady’s.

 

“I think—um.” She touches them, fingertips quivering as they ghost over her mouth. “I think I… Um.” Her brain is short-circuiting. She can’t form words. “Okay.”

 

She’s shaking, and Cady looks concerned. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, stepping back, face turning white. “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Janis hears herself say, voice weirdly to the right of her head. She inhales. The fresh air helps clear it a little. “Um. It’s fine, I just—I need—I need to think.”

 

“Okay,” Cady whispers. “Are you—do you want me to get Stephanie?”

 

“No,” Janis says, and it’s harsher than intended. “No, it’s fine. I just…feel weird. You should go.”

 

Cady’s eyes glitter with tears, challenging the sparkle of her crescent moon necklace. But she doesn’t argue, too freaked out to say much else. She chokes out an, “I’m sorry,” before turning and hurrying down the porch steps. Janis doesn’t call after her, just stands there and watches. She finally notices Cady’s mom’s car, parked a little ways away.

 

She’s oddly calm about Mrs. Heron potentially witnessing all that.

 

Janis goes back inside, frightened by how floaty she feels, like she could drift to the ceiling at any moment. She hears Stephanie asking if everything is okay right as her legs give out under her, and the pain of her knees slamming into the tile only registers by the time Stephanie gets to her. She sees black spots, and she can’t breathe, and it’s different from what happened in the car. But it’s still the same somehow. Just worse.

 

“Regina!” Stephanie is shouting somewhere above her, and she feels her head in the crook of the woman’s elbow. She shakes it, trying to pull herself out of it.

 

“I’m fine,” she rasps, gulping down air to prove it.

 

“What the fuck happened?” Regina yells as she thumps down the stairs. “Janis?”

 

“I don’t know—honey, can you hear me?” Janis nods to show she can, able to see a bit more now. She can’t move her limbs, though, and her chest hurts.

 

“Oh my God. Mom, should I call 911?”

 

“No,” Janis says, panicked. “Don’t. I’m fine. Help—help me sit up, please.”

 

She feels Regina behind her, and they help her sit herself up so she can put her head between her knees. She breathes heavy, waiting for the blood to rush back to her head.

 

She imagines this is what “lovesick” really is.

 

Later she’ll classify this as the worst overreaction ever, but right now all she can think about is Cady’s face, her voice, the way her mouth felt on hers. It’s like she unintentionally stole the air from Janis’s lungs with that single kiss.

 

Maybe that’s what love is. Messy. Breathless.

 

If this is what love is, Janis is suddenly petrified that it isn’t worth it.

 

That’s when she starts to cry, without even realizing it. It hits her all at once, reality crashing on her entire body like a wrecking ball is slamming into her.

 

Regina’s arms end up around her, holding her together. Temporary glue for what feels like a permanent problem. But it’s enough for now. All Janis needs is for something to be enough.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  self harm mention   
>  suicide mention   
>  anxiety

Janis sort of drifts through the weekend. Time passes in stages; one minute she’s on the floor, sobbing in Regina’s arms, then she’s waking up at noon the next day. She tosses her phone in a drawer and doesn’t touch it for two days.

 

Cady doesn’t call and neither does Damian. Janis is too locked in her head to wonder how this is going to affect things. She’s just floating through time, riding the throes of depression.

 

Janis hasn’t felt this way in a long time. Her last therapist diagnosed her, probably filed it away with “anger issues” and “anxiety.” But she’s been fine. She’s been okay. She hasn’t cut in over a year, and she hasn’t wanted to kill herself lately. She’s fine.

 

But right now she’s not. It’s like the weight of every emotion she’s felt for almost six months is crashing down on her and pulling her into this horrible sea of sadness, confusion, and dulled anger. She’s mad at herself, mostly, for waiting so long—but not mad at Cady. She’s confused, though, wondering how it’s even possible.

 

The universe wouldn’t be so kind as to give her Cady, and as much as Janis tries to remember they’re equals in terms of worth, she still doesn’t feel like she’s as much of a catch.

 

What’s so great about her that Cady thought about her on Friday night? She could’ve secured the guy of her dreams. But instead Janis was on her mind. It just doesn’t make sense. Janis? Of all people? Why her? Janis has plenty of reasons for loving Cady, and it’s a love so sweet it makes her want to throw up. But Cady?

 

Janis would ask, and she will. But her brain is barely hanging on enough as it is. It can’t form a single thought without it pulling apart like the string of a spider’s web.

 

On Monday morning, she goes through the motions as usual. Her head is a bit clearer today; it probably won’t last, so she savors it. Stephanie and Regina are tentative when she comes into the kitchen, bare-faced and wearing less layers than usual. She lacked the energy to paint her face and stared at her clothes for a solid five minutes before picking shorts and a shirt.

 

So if she looks weird, it’s because she feels weird.

 

“You don’t have to go to school today,” Stephanie murmurs to her as she’s trying to pick which cereal she wants. She suddenly doesn’t recognize the boxes.

 

“Huh? Oh. I’m fine,” Janis lies. She wants to go mostly because she hasn’t left the house since Friday. She feels itchy and restless now.

 

Stephanie rubs her arms. “Okay. If you wanna come home, you call me, okay?”

 

Janis nods, and hugs her. Stephanie smells clean and familiar. It helps.

 

It’s quiet in the car, but Regina doesn’t even put music on. Janis hardly notices when she goes past their usual drop-off spot. She drives until they get to the back of the parking lot.

 

“Regina,” Janis says numbly, realizing now what she’s done.

 

“I know. Look at me.” Janis does so, and Regina is opening a makeup palette. She dusts pink powder over Janis’s cheeks, and puts some grey shadow on her eyelids. Then she hands her a simple stick of Chapstick and says, “There. Better?”

 

Janis applies it to her chapped lips and nods. “Better. Thanks.”

 

In a twist of fate, she’s the one who is ultimately hesitant to leave the car. Regina gets out like it’s no big deal, walking around to open Janis’s door. Janis looks up at her fearfully.

 

“I don’t care anymore,” Regina tells her with a shrug. “I honest to God don’t.”

 

Janis believes her. She has no reason not to.

 

So she leaves the car, shucking her backpack over her shoulder. “You sure I look okay?”

 

“Yes,” Regina says, locking her car. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

 

They haven’t even made it halfway across the parking lot when people start staring.

 

Regina doesn’t falter. She keeps strutting towards hell in her Louboutin’s, Janis lagging behind her. She ducks her head, glad that her hair is so long it can sort of curtain her face.

 

But then Regina smiles at her before they part, and she feels a teensy bit braver.

 

Janis is still scared as she retrieves her books, hoping her friends won’t recognize her at first since she’s very not Janis-like today. People are still staring; they’re whispering now. It doesn’t really matter to her if her reputation as the intimidating but notorious Regina anti is crumbling. She’s past caring about anything at this point.

 

She walks into homeroom, heart in her throat. Luckily they aren’t here yet, so she migrates to her desk, feeling like it’s the first day of school all over again.

 

But then Damian walks in, and Janis feels so, so small, and the panic that grips her body is like no other. But then he just looks relieved when he sees her, his entire torso slumping.

 

When he comes to her, she isn’t sure why she’s so surprised. It’s not like she and Cady fought and pledged to never speak again. He might not even know. Janis still shakes when he gets to her, feeling like it took a million years from the door to her desk in the back. For a moment he’s quiet, standing there looking at her like he can’t make sense of what he’s seeing. He just looks concerned, not angry like she did something bad.

 

“Hi,” he eventually says. Hesitant, like everybody else is.

 

“Hi,” she rasps, waving shyly. “I’m alive.”

 

“You don’t look it,” he comments, because even now he has to be honest with her.

 

She grins the slightest bit, and he bends down to cup her cheeks and kiss her forehead. Then he goes to his desk, not asking questions, aware just by looking at her that she needs time.

 

She still feels compelled to ask, “Are you mad at me?” because the thought of him being mad at her is going to haunt her all day if she doesn’t.

 

He blinks, his turn to be shocked. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

 

Janis shrugs. “I dunno. Did she tell you?”

 

“Did who tell me what?” he says innocently, and he isn’t playing dumb. Cady walks in precisely at that moment, and Janis clams up even worse than before. Damian follows her eyes, visibly perplexed when he sees it’s Cady. Cady doesn’t look like herself, either.

 

She looks tired, her face drawn and pale. She’s wearing a hoodie and jeans, old sneakers on her feet. Her hair is a mess. Her heart likely is, too.

 

She comes to a halt when she spots Janis, accidentally making eye contact. Damian glances between them, not having a single clue what’s going on, and after a painful minute Cady walks to her desk beside Damian’s. Janis’s leg is motoring under hers, anxiety pulsing through her.

 

Shit. She forgot her meds again. Damn it all to hell.

 

Needless to say, homeroom is tense. Janis skips science altogether, hiding in the library for an hour, trying to lose herself in her textbooks. Just her luck, this had to happen with finals around the corner. Half of what she reads don’t look like real words to her, and her handwriting doesn’t resemble hers at all. Her brain is having difficulty recognizing things.

 

She’s not sure if that’s supposed to happen.

 

Regina tracks her down during break, finding her sitting alone in a stairwell corner like an emo kid from a 2007 coming-of-age movie. Regina taps her ears to signal for Janis to remove her earbuds, and Janis allows her just one.

 

“Did you take your meds?” she asks, and Janis shakes her head.

 

Then Regina digs into her purse and produces the bottle. Janis stares at her until she shrugs and says, “I dunno, I thought maybe—maybe you’d forget, or you’d need them today. Do you need water? Or I can sneak into the teacher’s lounge to get you a soda.”

 

Janis takes the bottle. “No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

 

She notices the kids lingering on the stairs, watching them interact with open mouths. Regina turns to glare at them, and they all shuffle away.

 

She smiles sweetly at Janis. “You can sit with me at lunch today. If you want.”

 

Oh, right. Lunch. Janis realizes she’s starving then, having finished half her cereal. She doubts she’ll have much luck eating whatever the school provides, but is grateful for Regina’s offer.

 

The bell rings then, and Regina helps her up. Regina pats her arm then flounces away like the pretty princess she is. Seemingly unbothered.

 

Janis wonders what that’s like, to always have your shit together on the surface.

 

Regina has many faces. It’s weird for Janis to realize she’s seen most of them.

 

At lunch, Regina, Gretchen, and Karen rally around Janis, almost like they are shielding her from view. Janis can’t decide what she wants and Regina can tell she won’t be eating much anyway, so she orders her some cheese fries and a lemonade.

 

“Karen will finish them if you can’t,” she assures her, and Karen nods her bobblehead.

 

At their table, Janis sits at the very end, furthest away from Cady, with Regina next to her and Karen and Gretchen across from them. Janis took her meds, but her leg still bounces, and she is itchy again from how many eyes are on her.

 

The worst is when she spots Sonja Acquino on the other side of the cafeteria, her expression a mix between judgmental and worried. Sonja looks away when they make eye contact and it sends a cold spike of shame into Janis’s heart. She feels like she’s betrayed everyone.

 

She lets Karen finish her fries, and the blonde happily accepts the basket. Janis sips her drink for the rest of lunch, listening to Regina and Gretchen chatter.

 

It dawns on her that Regina doesn’t know what happened. She’s being nice and protective for no reason other than she cares about Janis, not necessarily what the drama was.

 

Regina prior to Janis would’ve wanted all the details just to sneer at her. But because of Janis, she’s found that old version of herself who was kind.

 

And it’s strange how the tables have turned, where people are whispering about Janis and not Regina for being associated with the other. Unlike Regina would have been months ago, Janis isn’t embarrassed—but the hushed words and critical eyes certainly don’t tame her anxiety. It’s definitely not helpful that Damian still looks sad and confused, and Cady won’t turn around.

 

When lunch is ending, Sonja catches Janis as she’s heading for the entrance. “Sarkisian,” the smaller girl barks, and Janis jumps, but stops. Sonja saunters up, clearly angry. “What the hell are you doing with that she-demon?”

 

A few feet away, Regina pauses to watch, looking stung by the insult. Gretchen grabs her arm and leads her out, Karen traipsing after them obliviously.

 

Janis stares at Sonja for a moment, her mind trying to piece together an explanation. But then she realizes she shouldn’t have to explain herself, bristling over Sonja’s accusatory tone. She likes Sonja and considers her a friend, but a real friend would be concerned about Janis—not get up in arms about who she had lunch with.

 

Sonja doesn’t know. She doesn’t have the slightest clue what Janis is going through.

 

Janis lets the disappointment and hurt show on her face until it’s effective enough for Sonja to say awkwardly, and albeit belatedly, “I mean, are you okay?”

 

“That should’ve been the first question,” Janis murmurs, then walks away.

 

* * *

 

People stare again when Janis and Regina walk back to the car together. C’est la vie.

 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Regina chirps as she revs the engine.

 

Janis huffs, dumping her bag at her feet. She’s too tired to respond, brain struggling enough as it is. Regina asks if she’s alright and she shrugs.

 

“Something happened with Cady.” It isn’t a question. “Did you see her Friday night?”

 

Janis nods. “She came to talk to me.”

 

“After her date with Aaron?” Regina is perplexed. “Um. Okay. Why?”

 

Janis stares out the windshield, the sun warming her face. But she still feels cold on the inside as she remembers Cady’s confession, then the kiss, then her breaking down.

 

“Sorry if I scared you,” Janis tells Regina.

 

Regina shakes her head, backing out of her spot. “You didn’t.”

 

“No, it was weird. I shouldn’t have—I could’ve waited til I got to my room.”

 

“Janis.” Regina stops the car. “What goes around comes around. I was a mess the other day, you held me then. So I did the same for you.”

 

“Yeah, but. It’s different.” Janis can’t explain how. It just is.

 

“No, it’s not,” Regina argues gently. “It’s not. People helping people is always the same. I did it because I wanted to, it’s not like I was gonna pass you off to my mom out of disgust.”

 

Janis huffs a laugh, and Regina touches her arm. “I mean it,” she says, and Janis looks at her. “You do so much for everyone around you. It’s okay to let people help you. And before you say shit about not deserving it—that’s your brain talking, and it’s wrong.”

 

Janis pokes her gently in the arm. “I could say the same about yours, y’know.”

 

Regina keeps driving. “Yeah. That’s another story.”

 

* * *

 

Janis has never been so glad to come home. She crashes on the couch soon after, exhausted from avoiding Cady and being followed by hypercritical eyes all day.

 

Her head still hasn’t cleared up quite yet. She feels worse when she wakes up, and it’s so bad she can’t remember her own name or where she is. There’s a blanket draped over her, Regina sitting at her feet. Seeing her triggers her memory and she relaxes upon realizing everything is okay.

 

When Regina notices she’s awake, she informs her that she got a text a while ago, and hands Janis her backpack. Janis digs through it to grab her phone, wincing at the light. Damian wrote to say he still has no idea what’s going on but he hopes she’s okay, and that Cady misses her.

 

_I miss her too,_ she writes back, then dumps her phone back into her bag.

 

“Damian,” she tells Regina when Regina looks at her expectantly.

 

Regina nods, then goes back to channel surfing. Janis lays there listening to the TV, breathing through odd waves of something that’s a mix between nausea and anxiety.

 

She wonders why Cady doesn’t just tell Damian the truth. He’s not going to care that she likes Janis. He’s been wanting them together for months.

 

But maybe it’s not that easy for Cady. She only just figured out she likes Janis—telling her was one thing, but telling someone else is another. Given what happened with Regina, it would not be surprising for Cady to be hesitant. Even if it’s just Damian and he probably wants to help.

 

Janis misses Cady. She misses Damian. She misses how things used to feel. It’s like years have passed in a matter of days. She feels older, more broken.

 

“Cady likes me,” Janis hears herself say, and Regina nearly drops the remote. Regina looks at her, eyes wide. Janis shrugs. “That’s what happened.”

 

“And you’re not—how come you didn’t tell her you like her back?”

 

“I just couldn’t,” Janis murmurs, fussing with the edge of her blanket. “I got scared.”

 

“Clearly,” Regina says sympathetically.

 

“We kissed,” Janis admits next. Regina gasps. “Well. She kissed me. I sort of stood there. I felt weird about it. But I should’ve kissed her back.”

 

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Regina says, suddenly fierce. It takes Janis a second to remember where the intensity comes from. “I mean—she didn’t like, force herself on you, right?”

 

“Oh, no. God, no.” Janis slowly sits up, shaking her head. “Cady wouldn’t do that. No, that isn’t what happened. She just kissed me and my mind went blank.”

 

Regina relaxes a little, but still looks fretful. “I got scared,” Janis says with another shrug. “It all happened so fast, even though it felt like time slowed down. She came here right after she got home from her date to tell me she has feelings for me. I couldn’t…process it. I’m still confused. But she admitted how she felt, and there was this weird short moment, and she kissed me. It’s not that the kiss was bad, I just…”

 

She trails off, unsure how to describe it, so Regina finishes the thought for her. “You just didn’t want it,” she suggests quietly. “Not at that moment, at least.”

 

Janis shakes her head. “It—it all should’ve been how it happened. Y’know, I should’ve told her I felt the same. We should’ve made out on the porch for five minutes. Like in the movies. Then she would’ve said she’d call me and we’d talk on the phone all night like blissful idiots.”

 

“It’s okay that it didn’t happen like that,” Regina assures her. “You weren’t prepared. I mean, it sounds like it came out of left field. And it’s not supposed to be easy like in a movie.”

 

Janis knows. She just feels like she fucked it up.

 

“It’s not over,” Regina says. “Like, this isn’t the end for you two. You feel like shit right now, but. There’s always tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. Time might be good for you right now so when you go to talk to her, you’ll know what to say.”

 

“I’m just scared of what comes after that,” Janis whispers. “Where do we go from there? Is she gonna be my girlfriend, then, or what?”

 

“Only if you want to be each other’s girlfriend,” Regina tells her. “You can be on the same page but not rush into anything. Being in love doesn’t mean you have to instantly be together. Work through your shit first. You both have a lot of shit, no offense.”

 

Janis laughs lightly, and Regina smiles. She takes Janis’s hand, just to hold it.

 

“You don’t wanna lose her,” she points out. “But if you force yourself to be together you will for sure. There’s a time for everyone. And yours doesn’t have to be right now. As for how you feel in your head—it’ll pass. Clouds go away eventually.”

 

Janis squeezes her hand. “You’re so wise.”

 

It’s quiet then except for the television, until Janis says, “So, any plans for Spring Fling?”

 

Regina busts up laughing, and Janis does, too. “Not really,” Regina admits, then sighs. “I got crowned queen last time. I don’t know if I’ll even be nominated this year.”

 

“You okay with that?” Janis asks gently.

 

Regina rolls her eyes. “It’s a fuckin’ plastic crown. I’m a princess with or without it.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a doozy, folks. also please read the end note for an announcement :)
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  eating disorder mention   
>  body image mention   
>  panic attacks

The next four days are relatively the same, although Janis’s head clears a little more each day. She has lunch with the Plastics, avoids her friends, and is scrutinized by everyone.

 

On Friday, she’s the one to skip club this time, because she just knows a welcome reception is a lot to ask for. Regina waits for her at the entrance and they leave together again. People are obviously curious about them, but nobody has outright asked.

 

Janis would be honest if someone did. She has nothing to hide, and Regina has nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone cares but them.

 

Regina has Janis ask Stephanie if they can go get something to eat, since she’ll be more likely to grant Janis permission. Janis doesn’t do anything to warrant rules or even a curfew, but she promises to look out for Regina when Stephanie says yes.

 

Regina drives downtown, and Janis won’t ask where they’re going. It’s a warm day, enough for Regina and Janis to be wearing a skirt and shorts, respectively. And maybe Janis is just trying to be hopeful, but Regina doesn’t look so terribly thin today. It’s also promising when she leads Janis into a burger joint. Janis won’t ask if she still keeps her diary, and won’t ask what exactly her disorder entails. But she’s proud of her regardless.

 

Janis doesn’t feel self-conscious about stuffing her face with a juicy burger, because Regina is the same across from her, indulging in it like she hasn’t in a while. They don’t talk about Aaron or Cady or anything pertaining to what could be causing them inner turmoil.

 

They’re just two friends—sisters, almost, but not quite—having burgers after school on Friday. There’s no pressure or expectations. Just laughter when someone gets ketchup on their chin, and blowing straw wrappers in the other’s face.

 

Right now, Janis actually prefers this over club. And it’s not even a cold day in hell.

 

On the drive home, they roll the windows down and Regina cranks up the music. Janis envies her ability to drive and sing at the same time, unafraid she’ll wrap them around a tree. And it is kind of comforting to be able to look back on their past selves and know this was waiting.

 

“You know what we should do?” Regina yells over Ariana Grande.

 

“What?” Janis yells back.

 

“Go to Spring Fling together,” Regina suggests loudly. “Like, you, me, Gretch, and Kare. We all go together, because fuck men, right?”

 

“Right,” Janis agrees, feeling like they’re both on LSD.

 

“Okay, so you’ll go?” Regina shouts. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

 

Janis doesn’t much care for dances and has never been to one, but it’s not such a bad idea. If she’s with the Plastics, her reputation will only worsen, but she doesn’t give a shit. She’s sure if it sucks, they’ll leave and go do something cooler.

 

“Yeah, I’ll go,” she tells Regina after considering this for half a second.

 

“So fetch!” Regina approves, and Janis laughs.

 

* * *

 

They head downtown again the following afternoon. Janis nervously tells Regina she has zero experience shopping for things like this, but Regina assures her they’ll find the right outfit. And even after thinking it through, Janis is still fine with the fact they’re going to Spring Fling.

 

She wonders if Cady is going with Aaron as a last resort.

 

They go to the mall and Regina struts into the first store she sees. Janis trails after her awkwardly, feeling out of place as she follows her around. Maybe she should’ve let her do this by herself and trust she’d make the right choice for Janis.

 

Regina sees something on a rack and turns to Janis to evaluate her, then says, “Let me take a wild guess and say you’re not gonna wear a dress.”

 

“Not if I can avoid it,” Janis admits shamelessly.

 

“Hm. Okay. What about something like this?” Regina takes down a two-piece set, a shimmery, deep red crop top that ties in front with long, tight pants. Janis raises an eyebrow.

 

“No? Alright.” Regina puts it back. “I think a two-piece would be best, though. Think you could settle for a skirt if no pants fit right?”

 

Janis sighs. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just one night.”

 

They go back and forth between looking for Regina’s dress and something for Janis. Regina is more into it than Janis, and Janis is okay with waiting while Regina tries on stuff. She’s picky—she plucks at her hips and has to adjust shoulder straps. Her collarbones are sharp, shoulders a little bony. Janis has to look away, guilt stirring inside her.

 

She should’ve said something when she first found Regina’s diary. They don’t discuss it these days and Janis isn’t about to ruin their flow by bringing it up, no matter how gently.

 

Regina ultimately settles on a [grey, stretchy one-shoulder dress](https://i.imgur.com/9f07I6W.png) that she seems happy in, and it really does look good on her. Then she drags Janis to more stores, hoping to find the perfect thing for her. She holds up tops and skirts, trying to persuade her.

 

Janis’s eye is finally caught by an outfit on a mannequin, and walks over to look: a dark purple blazer over a white top with matching stripes and a pencil skirt. She touches the fabric, weirdly attracted to it. Regina comes to see, and just when Janis thinks she’s about to scoff in disgust, she says, “Try it on.”

 

They find one on the rack and go into the dressing rooms. Janis nervously strips and tugs it on as Regina babbles outside the stall. Janis cringes as she looks at her reflection, unused to her body being sheathed in formalwear. At least it’s her favorite color.

 

“Lemme see!” Regina chirps, so Janis awkwardly walks out, and Regina inhales, coming over to straighten up the blazer a little. Then she steps back to really look, hands on her hips.

 

“What’s the verdict, boss?” Janis asks nervously.

 

“I love it,” Regina breathes, and Janis is relieved. “You look hot.”

 

Janis snorts. “Hardly. Maybe if my tits showed more, I would. But thanks.”

 

“We’re the same shoe size, right?” Regina puts her foot against Janis’s. “Hm. There might be a pair of platforms in my closet you could borrow.”

 

“Okay,” Janis says, not wanting to be any taller but unable to deny her the experience of doing something nice for someone.

 

Janis changes back into her clothes, hoping she’ll gain the confidence to wear that in public by next Saturday. Regina assures her she looked killer and will “confirm every thirst thought Cady has ever had” about her. Janis chokes on air, and Regina cackles.

 

They stop at the food court, bags under the table, and it’s like yesterday all over again.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Janis inquires.

 

“Sure about what?” Regina says, stabbing a piece of orange chicken.

 

“The dance,” Janis says. “With me. I mean, not _with_ me, but—you and your friends. It won’t be weird at all? Equilibrium won’t be thrown off?”

 

Regina laughs. “No. Who says a bunch of gal pals can’t go to a dance together?”

 

Which is ironic, because Janis has always secretly thought Gretch and Karen have a thing for each other. Just the way they act when the other is near, it’s like they’re subconsciously trying to simply be as visible as possible. Wanting to be seen by the one they love.

 

“Do you think Cady’s gonna go with Aaron?” Regina asks delicately.

 

Janis shrugs, chin in her hand. “Dunno.”

 

“How’d you feel if she did?” Regina really doesn’t beat around the bush.

 

Janis thinks about it, miserable the entire time. It’d be weird to show up and see them together after everything Cady said. Janis can’t imagine Aaron still asking Cady out when he got curved the night of their date. What sane guy would take the girl who’s refused to kiss him twice to the dance?

 

Like, dude. Take a hint. Maybe she likes someone else.

 

And she does. Janis still doesn’t get it.

 

“I don’t wanna, like, get back at her,” Janis mumbles. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

Regina blinks. “I didn’t say anything about getting back at her or Aaron.”

 

Janis hunches her shoulders. “I know, but—now I feel weird. If she sees me having a nice time I don’t want her to feel like I don’t care. We’ve both been really upset lately and if I go and have fun while she’s there, it’s like I’ve stopped caring. Or moved on.”

 

“Janis.” Regina takes a sip of her soda to clear her throat. “Honey. Having fun while you’re not in a good space isn’t a bad thing. If she really loved you, wouldn’t she be happy to see you out there, having a good time? That you aren’t being wracked by guilt at that moment? If you saw her having fun, wouldn’t you be glad?”

 

“Well, sure,” Janis admits, shrugging. “That’s all I… I want her to be happy.”

 

“Well, then, there ya go. If you can extend that courtesy to her, she can for you. And you never know what could happen. It’s a school dance.” Regina spreads her hands emphatically.

 

Janis rolls her eyes, slowly chewing a bite of her cookie. “Are you saying it’s gonna be like one of those cheesy teen movies where everything works itself out?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, you useless lesbian,” Regina teases, and Janis is startled into laughter. Regina laughs, too, not having meant anything by it. That’s different now, too.

 

They haven’t talked more about her sexuality or anything LGBT related. Janis is giving her as much time and breathing room as she needs; she essentially came out to Janis, and that takes a lot out of someone. While Janis never considered the possibility of Regina not being straight, it’s definitely a welcome surprise. Plus, learning more about her past and what drove her to be an insensitive bitch helped understand her more.

 

Regina George isn’t a bad person. She was hurt, so she did bad things. But Janis can see her changing, has watched her apologize and do better. She’s nicer now than she ever was, and it might still be a while for her to patch things up with her parents, but Janis knows how hard she is trying to rectify her mistakes. Being hurt doesn’t mean you can hurt people. All you can do is admit fault and be the best you can be on any given day. And the effort means a lot to Janis.

 

It doesn’t mean she isn’t curious about how Regina feels _now,_ or if she likes girls _and_ guys, or just girls. But Janis won’t pressure her into discussing it if she doesn’t want to, but will be glad to listen and share if Regina ever did.

 

Her bedroom door stays open a little more these days. In case Regina wants in.

 

As if she can read Janis’s mind (or at the very least their brains are on the same wavelength), on the walk back to the car Regina says, “I don’t still like her, by the way.”

 

Janis almost drops her bag. “Don’t still like who?”

 

Regina stops walking. “Cady,” she says softly. “I mean, I don’t _dislike_ her, obviously, that’s not what I—” She bites her tongue before she can ramble, gathering her thoughts. “Whatever I felt for her, it’s gone now. It was enough for me to panic and do what I did, but it went away. And I’m not saying that’ll happen to you, because I think you really love her, but. I don’t want you to worry or think something will happen between us.”

 

“Why would I think that?” Janis says, mystified. She’s still weirdly relieved.

 

Regina shrugs. “I dunno, I just know anxiety can be a bitch and when you start overthinking, it can ruin everything. So. I don’t have a crush on Cady anymore. She’s all yours.”

 

Janis grins humorlessly. “Except she isn’t mine.”

 

Regina beams and boops her on the nose. “Not yet, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

It’s getting dark by the time they arrive home, but that’s not why Stephanie looks troubled.

 

Regina doesn’t notice at first, but Janis sees the strained look in her eyes. She asks how they are and if they found what they were looking for, so Regina excitedly shows her their attire. It’d be a sweet moment if Janis didn’t sense something was coming.

 

Then Stephanie kindly asks if Janis can take their stuff upstairs, because she wants to talk to Regina about something. There’s a breathless pause, then the girls share a loaded glance. It’s bad because Stephanie doesn’t assure them it’s fine, just a simple matter that won’t take long. Janis’s gut clenches at Regina’s fearful expression.

 

But she utters a quiet “sure” and takes their shopping and school bags from Regina, then nervously climbs the stairs. She looks over her shoulder at Regina, who’s trying to appear casual but failing.

 

Janis heads to Regina’s room, figuring Regina will want their fancy outfits in here instead. She takes Regina’s dress out and admires it for a minute, wondering how she herself would look in a dress like this. She’d be majorly uncomfortable.

 

She hangs it up in the massive closet, and isn’t even fazed by all the clothes anymore. Hoping everything isn’t what she thinks it is, she busies herself with looking over her outfit, also hoping the dance will be fun and drama-free. She does want to feel pretty for once; not just confident in her weird jackets and fishnets, but _pretty_ like the Plastics. She’s sure once she fixes her hair and does her makeup, she’ll feel better in it.

 

Voices just raised downstairs, and a thrill of terror ripples through Janis. It can’t be about her—Stephanie talking to Regina in private has nothing to do with her. She takes a deep breath, but it does little to calm her suddenly queasy stomach. She doesn’t want Regina to be hurt, either.

 

“It’s not a big deal!” she hears Regina shriek, and her voice gets closer. Footsteps pound after each other on the stairs. “I have it under control.”

 

“You are sick, you have no idea what could happen,” Stephanie argues tearfully.

 

The door bursts open then, startling Janis. Regina storms in, looking embarrassed and scared and angry. Her mother starts to say something else as she follows her but then sees Janis and cuts herself off. There’s a horrible, tense silence as they all wonder what to say.

 

And then Regina’s face is screwing up in this look of pure rage, but also like she’s trying not to cry in front of them, and turns to her mother to say, “Janis knew.”

 

Janis recoils like Regina had slapped her. The look Stephanie gives her is even worse.

 

“She what?” Stephanie says hoarsely, appearing dazed, and looks at Regina.

 

Regina is shaking from head to foot, vibrating from anger and fright. “She’s known for months. She found my diary, too, but didn’t say anything.”

 

“Regina,” Janis says, wounded. She won’t deny it, but can’t wrap her head around why Regina is doing this to her. This is all happening so fast. She had no time to even take a breath before they came in, and now it’s all unraveling, like a ball of yarn becoming an aimless pile in the middle of the room.

 

“Is that true?” Stephanie says to Janis, gauging her disappointment until she gets an answer.

 

And Janis can’t lie to her. She could never, will never. Won’t.

 

“Yes,” she whispers, and the shame and guilt that crashes over her is so strong, like a tsunami, powerful enough to warrant sinking onto the ottoman at the end of Regina’s bed.

 

“When did you find out?” Stephanie wants to know, hands on her hips.

 

Regina is beginning to look like she regrets it, like she’s now realizing what she did.

 

“November,” Janis murmurs, rocking slightly with anxiety. “The day I came home and you were making cookies for Alex’s office party. I went upstairs and—I was in Regina’s room and I found her diary. I read it. But I didn’t wanna bring it up.”

 

“How come?” Stephanie asks, and Janis can’t make eye contact. “Look at me, please.”

 

She can’t. That’s the one thing she won’t do.

 

“Mom, it’s not her f—” Regina goes to say, panicked, but her mother shushes her.

 

“Regina, be quiet. Janis, honey, look at me,” Stephanie pleads again, and Janis lifts her head. She tries, at least. She really does try. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

 

At first it was because she didn’t want to admit she was snooping around Regina’s room to find some evidence of her cheating; then it was because she didn’t want Regina to murder her if she snitched. But Janis was mainly just scared to cause a rift that would force her out of the house—she was scared she’d be blamed somehow, and would have to leave.

 

She didn’t want to ruin their lives. She was tired of feeling like a monster.

 

“I just thought I’d…get in trouble,” she says slowly, already feeling her brain begin to shut itself down. “If I said something. Regina hated me, I was afraid I’d make it worse.”

 

Regina clenches her jaw, and Stephanie gives her a look, like that’s news to her. Janis has not realized how completely unobservant this woman is until now, and it pains her to admit it. She sees what she wants to see when it comes to her daughter.

 

And for that reason, maybe Janis didn’t think Stephanie would believe her anyway.

 

“Aw, no,” Stephanie says gently, coming over to her, but Janis jerks herself away, standing up on still-wobbly legs. She puts as much distance between herself and Stephanie as possible.

 

“I’m sorry,” she insists, wanting to throw up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

“Janis, it’s okay,” Regina tries to soothe, but Janis maneuvers around her, too. She stops long enough to scoop her backpack off the floor and leave the room, running to hers and slamming the door. She locks it, then barely makes it to her bed.

 

She digs around for her phone, head spinning a mile a minute, and dials the only number she can think of right now. It rings only once before it picks up, and a voice says, “Janis?”

 

“Can you—can you—can you come?” Janis begs, simultaneously sobbing and dry-heaving. “I-I have to—I have to get out of here. Please.”

 

She hears the jangle of keys, then footsteps as Damian walks out of his room. “Okay, okay, I’ll be right there,” he assures her. “Give me ten. Just—hold on.”

 

She says okay and they hang up. She moves around like her body isn’t hers, stuffing a couple shirts and clean briefs into her backpack, along with her toothbrush, toothpaste, and makeup kit; her meds are already in her bag.

 

She paces while she waits, somehow managing to breathe through the panic until he texts her to let her know he’s outside. She grabs a pillow and leaves, bounding down the stairs as quick as she can, unable to be here another minute.

 

“Where are you going?” Stephanie yells after her, hurrying out of Regina’s room. “Janis!”

 

“I’ll be at Damian’s, don’t worry about me,” Janis insists, and runs out the door. He’s waiting in the driveway itself, passenger door already open, and she tosses her stuff in before climbing in next to him. Regina is the one who follows her outside, her mother behind her.

 

Regina looks like she’s been having quite a meltdown herself. Stephanie just seems shocked, stricken over what to do, hands on her face. Janis tells Damian it’s fine, so he drives off. Janis hears a muffled shout of her name. She doesn’t look behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: i will not be posting on this account anymore once passengers is over! i created my new one and will be posting a new oneshot tomorrow! please check out [steviewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviewrites) for new content. nothing is changing, i just wanted a fresh start. thank you guys!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  child death mention   
>  vomiting

Nana Hubbard walks out onto the front porch when Damian’s truck pulls into the driveway. It’s dark now, the moon obstructed by clouds. The air smells like rain.

 

Nana pulls Janis into a long, gentle hug, and Janis’s chest lightens considerably. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon inside the house, and his mom and another woman are here. At first Janis isn’t sure who her friend is, but then Damian introduces her as Sasha, his mom’s girlfriend.

 

Finding this out brings a smile to Janis’s face—she needed some hope after tonight. She hugs Ms. Hubbard and shakes hands with Sasha, who then hugs her, too. Nana makes her sit down on the couch, fussing over her after she brings Janis a cup of chamomile tea while Damian tells his moms what happened in a low voice.

 

Janis cried for half the drive, then calmed down enough to choke out an explanation. Her face, already red and blotchy, gets even redder with embarrassment as she realizes what she did by calling Damian. But she sips her tea quietly, her throat sore from crying. The family cat rubs against her legs in greeting.

 

When Damian comes over to sit with her, she says, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I called. I was panicking, I—I don’t mean to impose—”

 

“You’re not,” he assures, and Nana shakes her head as she places a blanket on Janis’s lap.

 

“You’re welcome here anytime for any reason,” Nana tells her, patting her cheek.

 

“It all happened so fast, I just—I had to leave,” Janis murmurs, the teacup warming her hands. “Nobody was gonna hurt me, it just was—I feel like I shouldn’t be there right now.”

 

Damian rubs her shoulder. “It’s okay. You can stay here.”

 

“Sometimes we all need somewhere to go.” Nana touches her chin. “Drink your tea, baby.”

 

Janis drinks her tea, warmed further with Damian at her side. Nana goes upstairs to set up the guest room, and Damian’s moms make dinner in the kitchen together. Janis can’t help but look over at them every now and then, pleasantly surprised.

 

“My mom and dad divorced a couple years ago,” Damian informs her softly, and Janis wonders how she’s only just now finding out about this. It’s not that she doesn’t care about Damian and his family—he mentions both his mom and dad, and Janis always assumes his dad is working, since he’s never here when she is. But Damian hasn’t said they divorced.

 

“Mom figured out she’s bi only last year,” he continues, smiling a little, pride in his eyes. “So she’s been learning more about herself. She met Sasha at a work party a couple months ago. She’s cool. We went bowling once during spring break.”

 

Janis laughs. “Are you any good at it?”

 

He sighs like it’s a deep, shameful secret. “Not really,” he admits, but grins when she does.

 

“Well, I think it’s great,” Janis murmurs, about his mom and Sasha. “Your mom is dope.”

 

“Yeah, she is,” he agrees affectionately, and she takes his hand.

 

The tea is relaxing, and Janis has a small serving of dinner with them. Nobody asks for details or pressures her to talk about what happened, and Nana makes sure she has a blanket on her at all times. Later, Damian carries Janis’s backpack and pillow for her and shows her to the guest room.

 

“I can go home,” Janis tries one more time, and he puts a finger to her lips.

 

“Stop. You’re staying here. You at least told them you’re with me, right?” She nods. He shrugs. “Okay. So. It’s all good. It’s okay to need space.”

 

She sighs, pulling her blanket tighter around her. He hugs her then, holding her together, and she puts her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “I don’t deserve you.”

 

She genuinely feels like she doesn’t. After the week they’ve had, she can’t believe how quickly he dropped everything to come get her.

 

But Damian doesn’t take sides. He cares no matter what.

 

He gives her some time to herself so she can shower and attempt to study, since her journals and crap are still in her bag. She bravely listens to her music on shuffle, skipping all the songs that remind her of Cady. Which is half of them.

 

She tentatively checks her texts at some point, heart lurching when she sees Regina wrote.

 

 

Regina has never said she loves her before.

 

Unsure if she forgives her just yet, but appreciating the acknowledgement, Janis writes back to say thanks, she knows, and will be home tomorrow. Regina replies with a heart.

 

Janis’s head feels heavy, the opposite of her dissociative state for most of the week. She can’t remember the last time she was so tired. And yet, she has trouble falling asleep, her mind and heart still racing and overwhelmed by it all.

 

Damian slips in around midnight, after the adults have gone to bed. She passes him her other earbud when he climbs in beside her.

 

They listen to her music for a while, both having the same taste in bands and genres. (Even if he hated her music, Janis knows he’d still listen to it for her. He’s that kind of person.)

 

At some point Janis turns it down to ask, “How’s Cady?”

 

He peers at her, the only light from her already dim phone screen. He seems hesitant to reply, until she gives him an earnest look.

 

“She’s okay,” he says stiffly, but not because he’s holding anything against Janis. “She told me what happened. She, uh… She feels really bad. And she misses you.”

 

Janis sniffs, eyes burning. “I miss her, too.”

 

He pouts a bit. “When are you gonna talk to her again?”

 

Janis shrugs, rolling onto her side. He mirrors her. “I dunno. Soon, I guess. I thought maybe at Spring Fling or whatever. I don’t know what I wanna say. Regina said we don’t have to be a couple just yet.”

 

“That’s true,” he says. “And I cannot believe I agree with Regina George.”

 

Janis pokes him in the arm. He pokes her back.

 

“So. I know that. But I don’t know what Cady wants,” she admits.

 

“She just wants you,” Damian murmurs. “She misses hanging out with you. All of us together. We were in her basement the other day and she started crying because it didn’t feel the same without you. Even if you guys don’t get together, she wants to still be friends.”

 

“I do, too,” Janis tells him, as a song by Dodie Clark hums in their ears. “That’s most important to me. And—it’s not that I don’t wanna be with her. I want it more than anything. You knew that first. But…I dunno if I’m ready for that.”

 

“And that’s okay. Neither is she, probably. This is all super scary and confusing for her. I mean, the last time she liked a girl—” He cuts himself off, but Janis already knows.

 

“Regina told me,” she whispers after a tense pause.

 

His eyes get big. “What exactly did she tell you?”

 

“That Cady came out to her and said she had a crush on her,” Janis says. She won’t add how Regina liked Cady back. Damian seems relieved, though.

 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “And then _it_ happened. So, Cady liking someone else now…it’s a lot.”

 

“I get it,” Janis assures. “I get why she’d be nervous.”

 

“She really loves you,” he insists. “She said she couldn’t believe it took her so long to realize it but when she did, it was like someone had punched her in the gut.”

 

Janis closes her eyes, remembering what Cady told her. Last Friday feels like forever ago, but it’s only been a week.

 

“Now that I know how she feels, I’m not so scared to admit how I do,” she muses. “I mean, I’m not sure why she likes me, and I’ve been afraid to tell her because she liked Aaron and I didn’t wanna start anything if I wind up having to leave, and… I guess now I see that being together isn’t really the point. Just being honest is.”

 

He nods. “That’s all she wants. You think you can talk before Spring Fling?”

 

Janis groans reluctantly. “I can’t, Damian. I need more time.”

 

He nods again and says, “I understand. And for what it’s worth, I miss all of us, too.”

 

Janis chews her lip for a minute, contemplating the possibility she really could have to leave. If Stephanie and Alex are so mad at her for not coming to them they send her back… She would not survive that. She’s said that before and conquered. But she’s not so sure she would this time.

 

“Regina’s sick,” she whispers into the darkness. “And I didn’t say anything to her parents. Am I the worst person to ever exist?”

 

“No,” Damian says instantly. “You were scared, and it makes sense why.”

 

“But I was selfish,” Janis mumbles. “I was only thinking of myself.”

 

“You’re traumatized,” he reminds her bluntly. “You don’t know what it’s like to _stay._ And Regina was being kind of a bitch to you when you found out. Of course it would freak you out. Of course you wouldn’t say anything.”

 

“I still feel like shit,” Janis whispers, unable to look him in the eye.

 

“I know. But it’s not your fault.” He tips her chin up so she will. “It’s not your fault.”

 

She inhales, breathing in the words, letting them settle. They do for once, and maybe because it’s coming from him. If he felt like calling her out, he would.

 

“I just want things to feel okay again,” she murmurs.

 

“They will,” he says optimistically. “Good things come to those who wait, child.”

 

* * *

 

Janis sleeps in late the next day, mentally and physically exhausted from the overall week she’s had. The house is quiet when she shuffles out of the guest room and down the hall to find Damian in his, sprawled on his bed playing Mario Kart by himself. So Janis snuggles up to his side, head on his shoulder, and gives lethargic encouragement.

 

Eventually they wander down to the empty kitchen in search of food. Damian thanks her for being here because it got him out of going to church today, and it means they can eat sugary crap for breakfast because Nana isn’t around.

 

“It’s two PM,” Janis points out as she shamelessly squirts chocolate syrup into her mouth. “Are they coming home anytime soon?”

 

Damian laughs. “Church is an all-day affair, unfortunately.”

 

Janis has never followed or been interested in a religion, but remembers the church where her friend’s funeral was held. High ceilings, stained glass windows. Small casket.

 

She almost gags on the bite of ice cream she just took. She hasn’t thought about that in a very long time—even when she was telling Regina about the girl at the home who had an ED, she didn’t once remember the funeral. It comes back suddenly, rather intrusively.

 

What if that had been Regina within the last seven months?

 

Janis rushes to the sink and vomits. Then apologizes profusely. Then throws up again.

 

It’s the sugar, she tells herself. Too much too soon.

 

* * *

 

It’s evening when she finally musters the courage to call Stephanie, who answers immediately, like she’s had her phone on her all day. Waiting.

 

“Hi, sweetie,” she greets, chipper but nervous. “How—how are you?”

 

“I’m okay,” Janis tells her in a small voice, like she’s bracing for a slap to the face that couldn’t possibly come. “I’ve just been hanging out with Damian.”

 

“Good,” Stephanie says softly. “Are you coming home?”

 

It’s a question, not a demand. She doesn’t tell her to be home at a certain time; she’s providing a choice. Because maybe she doesn’t want Janis to come home, is hoping she won’t.

 

“I can be home by tonight,” Janis murmurs, looking down at the ring on her finger. She has not taken it off since Christmas. Not even now.

 

“No pressure,” Stephanie assures. “I understand if you don’t want to.”

 

As usual, Janis isn’t sure what she wants.

 

“I just—I’m sorry,” she says again, throat prickling. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 

Stephanie sighs, long and shaky. “I know. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, or your responsibility. I can’t pin that on you. As her mother I should’ve—” She stops, and Janis can just picture the strained expression of guilt on her weary face. “I’m sorry I was harsh, or if I—if I frightened you at all. That wasn’t my intention. It all happened so fast.”

 

“It did,” Janis agrees, swiping at her eyes. “Um. How’d you find out, anyway?”

 

“I was changing Regina’s sheets,” she admits. “Her diary fell out of her pillow. Then I found the key and I…I read it.” The shame that colors her voice is so foreign to Janis, seeing as adults in her life have rarely acknowledged their mistakes. “I’m just at my wit’s end, Janis, I didn’t know what else to do. She won’t talk to me.”

 

Janis is quiet. On the one hand, she understands Stephanie’s desire to help her daughter, and probably wasn’t expecting to find what she did. But on the other hand, betraying your already aloof child’s trust is not the way to get her the help she needs.

 

Regina needs help. They all need help. Not to be fixed, but to find new ways to cope with their brokenness until they don’t feel so shattered anymore.

 

Let broken people be broken but don’t let broken people break others.

 

“I feel like you’re the only person she’s truly honest with,” Stephanie is saying tearfully.

 

“I do, too,” Janis whispers, then sighs. “I’ll be home around nine. And before you say it’s fine if I don’t—I’m okay. I need to be there for her.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Stephanie tells her. “She’s been in her room all day.”

 

There’s a tense pause before Janis asks, “What’s gonna happen now?”

 

“I don’t know,” Stephanie confesses. “Nothing’s changed. I only made it worse.”

 

“I know how you feel,” Janis murmurs. That’s her whole life in a nutshell.

 

Except she doesn’t really want to go home. She wants to stay here in Damian’s house forever, because it’s safe and warm and smells like good food and filled with laughter and smiles and is the kind of house everyone should be able to live in.

 

Janis is brushing her teeth after dinner, looking at herself in the guest bath mirror, and wonders again how she’s actually going to look at Spring Fling. She runs her fingers through her tresses of hair, trying to imagine what Regina might do with it. Straighten it, pull it back, twist it up. There’s just so much of it, and Janis never realized how heavy it was until she was showering the night before, and it weighed down her head.

 

What if she cut it? What if she just chopped it all off, right now?

 

She was going to wait for the side to grow in, but that will take forever, and she’s feeling dumb and impulsive. So she leans over the rail at the top of the stairs and calls down to the women, asking if anyone knows how to cut and dye hair. She’s doing this. Right now.

 

As it turns out, Sasha has a sister who is a hair stylist and has shown her how to do things. So, five minutes later Janis is seated in a kitchen chair Damian brought up, towel wrapped around her shoulders as Sasha stands behind her, braiding her hair.

 

Janis tells her what she wants, and Sasha says that’s cool. Damian’s mom—who insists Janis call her Whitney—comes back from her bathroom with some dye and gloves for Sasha.

 

“You ready?” Sasha asks, holding the ominous scissors.

 

Janis looks at her reflection, heart pounding like crazy. She’s had long hair all her life; it’s been partially blonde for several years. She’s never done this, and doesn’t know what to expect. But that’s why it’s so weird and thrilling. It’s unpredictable.

 

“Yeah,” she says confidently. “I’m ready.”

 

* * *

 

She keeps touching it. She can’t believe it only ends just below her chin, even darker than her natural roots. It’s glossy and shiny. Feels like silk to the touch.

 

She’s going to donate what was chopped off. Nana gets her a plastic bag, where she will keep the long blonde braid until she can give it away. Sasha showed her how to style it if she wants to cover the side cut, but told her shaving it again would look fine, too.

 

She might regret it tomorrow, but she’s happy right now. When she thinks about the dance, it’s easier to picture herself in her outfit now that she has different hair. It’s something new to try; it won’t really matter to her if people don’t like it.

 

She likes it. Damian likes it. She does wonder, though, if Cady will.

 

“She will,” Damian says, reading her mind when her expression in the mirror becomes worried for a second. He reaches out to twist a lock around his finger. “You look great.”

 

“Thanks. Sasha is kind of a badass,” Janis says, and he nods in agreement.

 

She gives his family more hugs before she leaves, thanking them for their generosity. They tell her again she’s welcome anytime, and Nana kisses her cheeks.

 

The drive home is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Janis is a little jittery, uncertain what Stephanie and Alex will say about her hair. Can she claim she had a nervous breakdown?

 

“Thank you,” she whispers to Damian, hugging him when he parks outside the front courtyard.

 

He rubs her back. “You’re welcome, JanJan.”

 

She snorts at the new nickname, then grabs her pillow and backpack and climbs out. He waits for her to climb up the porch steps, waving back at her when she does. She inhales anxiously, then unlocks the front door with her key.

 

She was fearless once today. She can do this again. One breath at a time.

 

“Janis?” Stephanie’s voice sounds surprised when she hears the door open. Janis walks in and both Stephanie and Alex rise from their chairs, having been waiting for her in the sitting room. Stephanie gasps and covers her mouth when she sees Janis’s hair.

 

“It’s fine, I chose to do this,” she assures them, and Stephanie comes over to touch it, equal parts concerned and surprised.

 

“Hm. I like it,” Alex says, casual as ever, and he winks at her when she smiles.

 

“I do, too,” Stephanie admits, and Janis puts her stuff down so she can hug her. Tensions have faded—she’s still nervous, but no longer scared to be here. She doesn’t feel entirely unwelcome walking back in.

 

“I’m sorry,” she still feels compelled to say once more.

 

“Shhh.” Stephanie strokes her hair, squeezing her. “We understand. It’s not your fault.”

 

Janis wants to believe that. Maybe she will when Regina gets better.

 

Janis deposits her things in her room then goes to see the girl in question. “Regina?” she says through the door, knocking hesitantly.

 

“Janis?!” Regina turns down her sad music and the door flies open a moment later. Regina briefly gawks at Janis’s hair before pulling her into a hug, and both of them can feel how relieved the other is over neither holding on to anger.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Regina sniffles into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Ratting you out like that was so mean and I shouldn’t have brought you into it—”

 

“Regina, Regina. Hey. It’s fine.” Janis pats her back. “I’m not mad.”

 

Regina pulls back, looking tormented. “You looked so scared.”

 

Janis sighs. “Yeah, I was. But it’s over now. I’m fine.”

 

Regina plucks at a piece of her hair then, really looking at it. “No you’re not, you clearly had a break from reality and did this to yourself.”

 

Janis rolls her eyes. “Damian’s mom’s girlfriend did it, actually. I asked her to.”

 

Regina blinks. “A lot to unpack there,” she murmurs, and they laugh, hugging again.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mayhaps there is cadnis content in this one. mayhaps. also cannot believe this is done next month! so grateful for you all ♡

The week leading up to Spring Fling is chaotic and weird. People get increasingly excited, and the energy in the halls makes Janis anxious. She and Cady aren’t exactly ignoring each other; they share shy smiles when they pass in the hall, and Janis switches places with Karen so she is sitting closer to the art freaks’ table only a few feet away.

 

Now that Janis doesn’t have eighty percent of her hair, she can’t hide behind it so much. Eyes, both admiring and still critical, are on her all week, and Sonja ducks out of sight whenever she spots Janis, probably ashamed of her behavior.

 

Janis isn’t mad, though. She misses the club and wants to patch things up with everyone. She hopes once she’s able to explain, they’ll forgive and forget. They don’t know her story.

 

Regina’s parents hold off on having a certain conversation with her due to the fact she has lots of homework and things to study for these days. Janis goes to her room nightly so they can do it together, helping each other out if needed.

 

The Friday before the dance, Janis hesitates outside the auditorium. But she doesn’t want tomorrow to be any more nerve-wracking than it’s going to be, so she pushes through the doors. Heads turn—some half scowl in her direction, the others just look wary. Sonja uses Taylor as a shield, hiding behind the confused blonde.

 

“Janis,” Taylor says sweetly, smiling at her like nothing could turn her against her. “You came today! We missed you so much!” She runs to hug her, leaving Sonja unprotected.

 

“Hey, guys,” Janis says awkwardly, but feels better with Taylor by her side. “Uh. You’re all mad at me and I get why. I’m supposed to hate Regina’s guts and all that. But, um, I don’t. I haven’t mentioned it for this reason, but she’s my foster sister. I live with her and her parents. She isn’t that bad nowadays and not to be cocky, but…I’ve been helping her work through her shit. Regina really wants to be better, so she’s trying.”

 

They look shell-shocked at this reveal, but at least the skepticism is gone from their eyes.

 

“I’ve been hanging out with her for…reasons,” Janis continues, and finally notices Damian and Cady hiding in the back. Cady shrinks into his side. “But we don’t want to hide it anymore. I’m sort of her family now, and she’s sort of mine. We’re not ashamed of it. And I know she’s been awful and she knows that, too. But you all remember when she apologized. And no one has to forgive her, obviously, but… Maybe just give her a chance. Like I did. And believe me, if I can, so can you.”

 

They all glance at each other, and Janis expects them to burst into obnoxious laughter. But all that happens is a collective shrug and half-nod type thing, like that makes sense to them.

 

“So are we cool?” Janis says, a bit louder.

 

“We’re cool,” they chorus, seeming intimidated by her boldness.

 

“Cool. See you guys tomorrow.” Janis kisses Taylor’s cheek then walks back to the doors, and nobody follows her or calls for her to wait.

 

She does, however, feel a presence behind her before she turns the corner. In her peripheral, the person is short. And she can’t tell if it’s Cady or Sonja.

 

* * *

 

“I’m gonna throw up. Oh, God.”

 

Janis leans her head on Regina’s porcelain bathroom counter, clutching her stomach. Regina pats her shoulder and keeps brushing out her hair.

 

“Nothing has to happen tonight if you don’t want it to,” Regina reminds her, urging her to sit up again. “Like, keep ignoring Cady if that’s what you wanna do. Dances are supposed to be fun.”

 

Janis exhales, trying to calm herself. She can’t look at her reflection.

 

Regina is right, but Janis knows no matter how hard she tries, the universe just might make it go to shit anyway. Janis isn’t prepared.

 

Of course it takes a ridiculously long amount of time to get ready, but by the time they’re done, Janis is impressed with the results. Regina straightened Janis’s hair and Janis curled hers, and their makeup looks good, though Regina asks more than Janis does if she looks okay. Janis tells her yes, she looks fabulous, as many times as she needs to hear it.

 

They argued over what shoes Janis should wear until Janis stomped to her room then back in her Docs, and Regina gave up. Downstairs, Stephanie makes them take pictures, and it’s not nearly as awkward as it would be if they had boyfriends to pose with.

 

Gretchen pulls up, the designated driver, and Stephanie waves frantically with tears of pride in her eyes. In the backseat, Karen squeals over Janis’s outfit, and Janis compliments hers in return. Janis is relieved she doesn’t feel so weird now that it’s happening. Sometimes dressing up every now and then is a good thing.

 

The sky is purpling when they get to school, and people are filtering inside. Janis notices how Gretchen and Karen instantly bond hands when they leave the car; Janis won’t say anything but she knows that mushy look in Karen’s eyes, how happy she is to be near Gretchen.

 

Janis and Regina link elbows, and the four of them head in.

 

The gymnasium is bursting with noise and lights. There’s a table where you can write your pick for Spring Fling king and queen, and it’s then that Janis realizes she can’t remember who they announced. She asks Regina, who looks stunned for a moment.

 

“Oh my God,” she says, hand over mouth. “I don’t know.”

 

For the first time in North Shore history, none of the Plastics are nominated. They go to look at the options, and write down who they want to win this year.

 

Janis has never been so proud of Regina.

 

Karen finds the food table, and Gretchen pours them each bubblegum shots. “Cheers, ladies,” she chirps, and they bump their glasses together before throwing them back.

 

“There’s no actual alcohol in that, right?” Janis coughs.

 

“No,” Gretchen says disappointedly. “But pretending makes it fun.”

 

Karen pulls her away then so they can dance, exclaiming that their song came on. Janis looks at Regina, an eyebrow raised, and Regina shrugs. “Let’s go lesbians,” is all she says, and pours herself and Janis another shot.

 

That’s when Cady walks in, and Janis spits all over the floor.

 

“Holy shit,” Regina crows, and Janis inhales, nauseated all over again. Cady’s by the entrance holding on to Damian’s arm, who looks dapper in a tuxedo. Which is purple. Great minds think alike.

 

But Cady—holy shit is right. She is also wearing a suit, a gorgeous, shimmery pink blazer with matching pants, small heels strapped on her feet. Her hair is loose and wavy, the sides pulled back with sparkly clips. Her makeup is on point.

 

If Janis thought she was gay before, she cannot describe how she’s feeling right now.

 

Regina closes her mouth for her and takes the shot glass from her. “Mmkay. Go talk to her. Or not, it’s your choice. But I’m pretty sure she’d look at you the same way.”

 

“Doubtful,” Janis murmurs, dazed.

 

“Janis.” Regina takes her gently by the shoulders and turns her. “She already does.”

 

Janis groans and closes her eyes. “I can’t do this, Regina.”

 

Regina pats her cheek. “Yes you can. But if you don’t want to right now, let’s go dance. You’ve got time, sister. All the time in the freaking world.”

 

Janis doesn’t feel that way, seeing as her life is a constant hourglass. But she lets Regina drag her out to the floor anyway, despite her protests that she cannot dance. But being near Gretchen and Karen, who are hyped up and look like they’ve been smooching, makes it easier to be stupid and aimless without feeling self-conscious.

 

Janis spots Aaron at some point, by the wall with a drink and a friend. He looks handsome and relaxed, not like he’s being forced to attend. Not like he’s heartbroken over Cady. Because he liked her, too, Janis remembers.

 

Heart beating fast, she stumbles out of the crowd to get a cup of punch. She’s about to pour it when Cady walks up, her eyes wide and hesitant.

 

Of course that Billie Eilish song just started playing. It’s painfully relevant.

 

“Hi,” Cady says first, her eyes sweeping over Janis appreciatively. “Um. You look great. I love the hair.”

 

A smile tugs at Janis’s mouth. “Thanks. You look good, too.”

 

“Oh.” Cady looks down at herself like she forgot what she was wearing. When she looks up at her again, Janis feels this tug in her gut.

 

“I miss you,” she says, and she sounds like she’s choking. Maybe she is. “I’m sorry.”

 

Cady shakes her head, stepping closer. “Don’t be sorry. You needed space, I get it. I miss you, too.” She bites her lip thoughtfully, and it’s something else. “I’m sorry for kissing you.”

 

“No,” Janis says instantly, yearning to touch her but unable to move her arms. “It’s okay. It just…was a lot to process at the moment, but don’t apologize.”

 

“I shouldn’t have even… I don’t know what I was thinking.” Cady tugs fretfully at her sleeves. “I should’ve waited to talk to you. Not come to your house right after my date. It wasn’t fair, not to you or myself. I should’ve thought about it more. Not that—not that I don’t—not like that, not like I was wrong about how I felt, but—”

 

“Caddy, Caddy,” Janis says, touching her now, grabbing her elbows in what she hopes is a gentle way. “Take a breath. It’s okay.”

 

Cady does so, relaxing now that Janis is near. Janis holds on to her.

 

“Here, let’s go outside so it’s quiet,” she suggests, and holds out her hand. Cady takes it.

 

They slip out of the gym and head for the front entrance, stepping out into the cool evening. A strange thrill shudders down Janis’s spine. But she’s not scared. Not today.

 

“I feel like I rushed myself into it,” Cady continues once she can breathe again. “And so then I rushed you. I definitely shouldn’t have kissed you.”

 

Janis’s instinct is to take the blame and assure her she did nothing wrong, and while Cady did not intentionally cause Janis to have a panic attack afterwards, maybe she’s right. Coming to Janis and admitting her feelings like that was a lot for both of them to deal with.

 

“Right before, though,” Cady says softly, “you said—you said me telling you, it didn’t—bother you. And then you sort of smiled. Was that—I mean, obviously not to pressure you or anything but what did—Janis, what did that mean?”

 

They really are the most useless lesbian and bisexual to ever exist.

 

“It means I like you, too,” Janis says, her voice admitting it without her brain’s permission. She’s just been waiting and pining for so long she can’t keep it in anymore. “I like you so much it keeps me up at night. The past couple weeks without you have been hell. I don’t feel like me. I miss you like I’ve never missed someone before. I miss hanging out in your basement. And I—I never told you this before you told me because I didn’t think it’d matter.”

 

Cady’s brow furrows. Janis has missed that, too. “Why not?”

 

Janis shrugs. “You liked Aaron. And I only told you to talk to him because I…I already liked you by then and I was scared of losing you, so I wanted to make it easier on myself if you were with someone else. So if I had to leave—it wouldn’t hurt so much. But I only made it worse. I just…I just kept falling harder the closer you got to him. And that’s my fault, I made it happen, I’m not blaming you. But that just made it more difficult to tell you.”

 

Being vulnerable in front of people you care about is significantly harder than those you don’t. But Janis is trying, because they both deserve to hear this. It’s been a long time coming.

 

“Can I be honest?” Cady says then. “I think I’ve liked you this whole time. But it scared me so I sort of…fixated on Aaron. Like I said, I did have a crush on him, but…that’s just a crush. What I feel for you is different. It’s…better.”

 

“Why?” Janis has to ask. “Like. Why do you like me?”

 

Cady looks at her like she’s the sun, still shining at this time of night. If Janis is the sun, Cady’s the moon. Janis finally notices she’s wearing her crescent necklace again. How fitting.

 

“Because, you…you’re my best friend,” Cady states simply, like that explains it. “When we met it was like how I felt when I met Damian, like you were gonna be in my life for a long time. And I thought you were really pretty and interesting, and I was so happy you wanted to sit with us.”

 

Janis blushes. “I was happy I had somewhere to go.”

 

Cady smiles softly. “I’m glad you found your place with me and Damian. Looking back I can’t believe we were ever without you. You’ve changed both of us. You’re one of the best people I know, Janis. Despite everything you’ve been through, you still try to be kind to those around you. You have a really big heart. And I know you feel like you’re not enough, and that’s why your life has been so fucked up, but… You are enough. You’ve always been enough. You are for me, for Damian. Yourself, most importantly. I get feeling like you don’t deserve to have any sort of love in your life. But loving you is so easy. It feels like breathing.”

 

Ironically, Janis feels like she can’t breathe right now.

 

Cady steps closer and takes both of Janis’s hands, and her pulse spikes. “I just want you to be happy, Janis,” Cady murmurs. “I’d like to make you happy, if you let me. But if you’re not ready or just don’t wanna do this, I understand.”

 

Janis squeezes her hands, not even trying to hide the tears in her eyes. Now she’s afraid. “It’s not that I don’t wanna be with you. I just don’t know if I…if I can do it. Be the person you need. I have a lot—a lot of things going on in my head, all the time. And I won’t burden you with it.”

 

Cady shakes her head. “You’re not a burden. You can tell me anything, that’s what the people in your life are for. We help each other carry the load.”

 

Janis lifts a hand, still entwined with Cady’s, and brushes her finger along Cady’s cheekbone. “I know,” she whispers. “But I don’t feel deserving of someone else doing that for me. Not yet. I want to be okay with myself before we try.” Her voice wavers just mentioning it. “There’s a lot I don’t tell people. Things neither you or Damian know. I keep a lot locked up. And I wanna get to a place where I can share those things. So I can let someone help me carry it.”

 

Cady nods her understanding. “Okay. That makes sense.”

 

They look down at their feet, but Cady’s hands are so warm and soft and tiny in Janis’s, like they belong there. Janis doesn’t want to let her go.

 

“Is that it, then?” Cady asks, unsure.

 

“Is that what?” Janis inquires, because she’s willing time to slow down.

 

“Do we go back inside and act like this didn’t just happen?” Cady says, half-jokingly, but looks saddened by the prospect of letting go, too.

 

“No,” Janis says, shrugging, then suddenly grins against her will. “I mean. There is one more thing we can do.”

 

Cady is confused for a moment, but then she’s smiling from ear to ear, and giggles shyly. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. Sure. We can do that. If you want to.”

 

“Yeah, I want to,” Janis admits. “Like, for real this time. I won’t freeze up.”

 

“’Kay. Who does what first, then?”

 

Ah. Their first dilemma as an almost-couple.

 

“I’ll do it this time,” she volunteers. “Just—close your eyes or something. Give me a minute.”

 

“Sure.” Cady closes her eyes and tries to stop smiling but can’t, and Janis stares up at the roof above them in an attempt to calm herself down so she can do the damn thing.

 

Then she looks at Cady’s face, so close to her own, sweet and perfect and beautiful, and she wonders how she got so lucky to have just this.

 

She puts her hands on Cady’s cheeks, tipping her chin up a little. Cady tries not to smile. This is so weird. Janis is laughing silently, unable to believe this is her life.

 

But then she ducks her head, and her lips brush Cady’s, and—

 

“Guys!” The door bursts open and they jump apart, both yelping with terror. It’s Gretchen, and she’s bouncing in her heels. “They’re about to announce king and queen! Come on!”

 

They watch Gretchen flounce away.

 

There’s a pause, then Cady says in this funny high voice, “Well, you heard her, let’s go.”

 

She grabs Janis’s wrist and tugs her back inside. Not that Janis would ever need persuasion to follow Cady anywhere. She just would.

 

* * *

 

Tyler Kimble, Cady’s Mathlete buddy, and Grace Akinola are crowned king and queen.

 

While applauding, Janis happens to notice Sonja in the back, gazing up at Grace wistfully. Janis touches Cady’s arm before making her way over to Sonja, who grins hesitantly.

 

“You should ask her to dance,” Janis says outright, and Sonja turns red.

 

“Who, Grace?” She cackles nervously. “Um, no. I’d step on her.”

 

Janis shrugs. “Didn’t say she’d say yes, but still. Ask her. You never know.”

 

Grace is descending the stairs off the stage, her friends jumping up and down for her. Sonja is clearly lovesick—Janis knows the feeling all too well.

 

“Go on, Acquino,” Janis encourages, pushing her in that direction. “Do it for me.”

 

Sonja gives her an apologetic look, and fist bumps Janis before making her way over to Grace and her friends. Janis migrates back to Cady, who instantly finds her hand.

 

“Where’s Damian?” Janis asks, glancing around people’s heads.

 

Cady’s lips twitch. “Making out with Christian Wiggins somewhere, I’m sure,” she teases, and Janis gasps. Cady starts laughing, and it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, she’s the cutest ever.

 

Janis does it then, without really thinking. She gently grabs Cady’s smiling face and brings her mouth to hers, and Cady hums in surprise against her lips, taking her a millisecond to kiss her back. Janis doesn’t care that there’s people around or what anybody will say on Monday. This was a moment she couldn’t afford to miss. After two weeks of being without Cady, there is no way in hell Janis is going to lose any more time.

 

“Okay?” Janis whispers when they part, Cady’s fingertips on Janis’s mouth. Staying connected.

 

“Okay,” Cady whispers back, and replaces her fingers with her lips.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  physical violence

Janis is fiddling with her ring on the porch step when Sharon’s car pulls up.

 

“Hey, kid,” Sharon greets with a smile as she climbs out of the car. Janis walks down the stairs to see her, and is pulled into a long, tight hug. When they part, Sharon ruffles Janis’s new hair. “And when did this happen, miss?”

 

“Last week,” Janis says, not mentioning what triggered such a drastic physical change.

 

Sharon steps back to look at her from head to toe. “Well, I like it. Looks cool. Also, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear flannel,” she notes, for Janis is wearing one of Cady’s flannels over a tank top with shorts, a pair of Regina’s flip flops on her feet.

 

Perhaps Janis went home with Cady last night and they made out on the basement couch and drank too much soda then sugar crashed on Cady’s bed. And perhaps this morning Janis was cold so she did the obvious thing and stole Cady’s flannel.

 

She smirks, hiding her hands in her back pockets. “I like trying new things.”

 

“Mmhm.” Sharon taps her on the nose, and then they go inside.

 

* * *

 

“You took my shirt,” Cady accuses in a voice that’s more amused than anything.

 

Janis leans back on her bed, grinning into her phone. “Maybe so.”

 

Cady snickers. “I miss you,” she murmurs. “Where are you right now?”

 

“My bed,” Janis tells her, and that lowkey sounds erotic. “I have one foot in the air. And I can’t stop touching my hair because I still can’t believe I cut it all off like a recently divorced middle aged mom.”

 

“I can’t either,” Cady admits. “But it suits you. At first I didn’t recognize you. Damian had to tell me it was you. Which makes me feel bad.”

 

Janis laughs. “Don’t feel bad. That’s cute. Where are you?”

 

“My bed,” Cady echoes. “With Beary and Roary. I have my laptop open. I’m watching porn.”

 

Janis is entirely unfazed even though she knows Cady is kidding. Probably. “Oh, yeah? Don’t watch the ones where there’s no foreplay.”

 

“It’s porn,” Cady deadpans. “I have very low expectations.”

 

They crack up then, and laugh until they cry for five minutes. Even though she’s far away, her laugh is still so sweet in Janis’s ear. And joking about porn and sex is definitely easier now.

 

“I miss you,” Cady says again, laughing and coughing at the same time. Then she groans and it only makes Janis’s dopey smile grow.

 

“I miss you, too,” Janis admits, because it’s true. She had to come home to see Sharon or else she would still be at Cady’s, joking about this stuff in person.

 

“Did it go okay with Sharon?” Cady asks once they’ve calmed down.

 

“Yeah. It always does. She’s chill.”

 

She can hear Cady’s smile over the phone. “Good.”

 

Yeah. Good. Pretty good. Pretty great.

 

* * *

 

Things are back to normal the next day. Janis switches with Caitlyn Caussin again to be with Cady in science and is welcomed to the art freaks’ lunch table with open arms. Their energy is different now but not in a bad way; more like it’s gotten stronger.

 

People still won’t ask what Regina and Janis’s deal is, and essentially have just accepted it. It becomes routine for Janis to pass the Plastics in the hall and tap fingertips with Regina, or see them at their table before she goes to hers.

 

Balance is restored among her and Damian and Cady, and they spend equal amounts of time between Cady’s basement and Damian’s house, where Nana always insists on feeding them. When at Cady’s, sometimes Damian will claim he has to leave early to give them alone time, a sacrificial gesture on his part given how long he’s waited for them to get together.

 

Not that they are together. They agreed to wait.

 

Doesn’t mean they can’t still make out.

 

Janis is pretty sure they’re technically dating anyway, because they do hold hands and talk on the phone into the night and can’t keep their hands off each other. It’s just easier to not label it; they can just have fun, right? Get acquainted. No pressure.

 

Whatever they are, Janis really likes it. She likes study dates at Cady’s that end in a rewarding make out session. She likes dozing off with her head on Cady’s shoulders. It’s simple. Easy as breathing, as Cady put it.

 

* * *

 

“The end of school is nigh,” Damian announces, flopping down beside Janis with his tray then puts his head on her arm. “I can almost taste it.”

 

“Taste your tater tots before I eat them,” Janis warns, and he shields them protectively.

 

She glances at the Plastics’ table, where Regina is mysteriously absent. She saw her earlier in the hall and she seemed fine. Now it’s like she’s up and disappeared.

 

Right when Janis is going to go look, Regina hurries into the cafeteria, looking ashen.

 

“There you are,” Gretchen sings as Regina walks over to their table, but her tone changes as she sees Regina’s face. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”

 

Janis doesn’t hesitate to go over to her, Cady and Damian watching with confused eyes. “Are you okay?” Janis asks Regina, hand on her shoulder. Her expression is scaring Janis, and it’s oddly familiar in a way she can’t pinpoint.

 

Regina doesn’t respond, too frightened to speak, and Karen comes to sit next to her. Gretchen and Janis share a worried look. Janis’s stomach is in knots.

 

But then someone she hasn’t thought about in forever has to stroll in, like he is not the walking equivalent of human scum. And even though Janis’s memories of him are dark and hazy, he is still there at the forefront of her mind when she sees him. Clearly he’s also in Regina’s.

 

Janis bends down to whisper to Regina, “Did he hurt you?”

 

Regina shakes her head. “N-no. B-but he—but he saw me. He—he knows it’s me.”

 

Gretchen inhales and covers her mouth, horrified. Karen blinks obliviously.

 

Janis stands up straight, almost wanting the guy to look over and see her. She wonders if her hair would prevent him from remembering.

 

Surely the feel of her knuckles on his face again will remind him.

 

“Janis, no,” she hears Cady beg as she storms off towards him, weaving through the tables. A nervous voice, either Gretchen or Damian’s, pleads with her to come back.

 

Janis doesn’t think—she just does.

 

He barely has a moment to see her coming when she grabs him by the collar and utilizes the full force of her height and weight to slam him hard against the wall. He cries out in pain when he smacks his head. Seeing him in the light now, he’s the ugliest person she’s ever seen.

 

One of his friends gets his arms around her waist to yank her away from him, which only gives her the advantage of kicking him right where it hurts with the bottom of her very heavy boot. He howls and doubles over while Janis wriggles free from his friend, purposefully elbowing him in the shoulder so he’ll let her go. She lunges at her original target once more, shoving him to the wall again, claws in his chest, and winds back her fist.

 

The sound his nose makes when it breaks is worse than the first time.

 

“Aaron, do something!” she hears Cady shriek over the roaring in her ears, and a second later Aaron Samuels is putting himself between Janis and Regina’s attacker, while Shane Oman is behind Janis coaxing his friend to back off.

 

“What the Sam hell is going on here?” Principal Duvall yells as he waltzes into the cafeteria.

 

“This psycho bitch jumped me,” the human scum whines, spitting onto the floor. Principal Duvall is shocked, but Janis doesn’t care. Her hand is still a fist at her side, dripping blood onto the floor. And it’s all his.

 

And then she’s running, ducking around Mr. Duvall and heading straight for the front entrance, her dwindling adrenaline carrying her outside.

 

She runs until she has to limp, then comes to a standing crawl. She is half a mile from school, walking aimlessly in the opposite direction of home. Maybe there’s a metaphor in that.

 

Her lungs are burning. She’s dizzy. She has a stitch in her side. She walks until she can’t, sitting on a patch of grass in an empty field by the side of the road. The blood on her hand is drying, staining her fingers. Her knuckles are already sore. She broke a nail.

 

She keeps walking eventually, uncertain where she’s going but wanting to be as far away from school as possible. She’s beginning to realize what this could mean, although interactions with the police aren’t necessarily new to her. Everyone saw it. The guy could press charges. Her life here could—and probably will, let’s be real—be over as she knows it.

 

She fishes her phone out of her pocket. Cady has called three times, and Stephanie just did. A wave of remorse ripples through her. Well, shit.

 

She texts Sharon. Hopefully before anyone else has.

 

She wanders for a bit, avoiding neighborhoods where people could see or possibly kidnap her, especially the super nice ones (horror movies have taught her to never trust those). She isn’t dissociating, like she expected. She’s mostly numb, but is aware of what she’s doing.

 

Then Sharon calls. Janis takes a deep breath, and answers.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t go home. She comes upon an abandoned playground and finds refuge on a rusty swing. Sharon is on her way; she’s only an hour away today because she was evaluating a kid near here. Sharon told her she’d tell Stephanie she’ll handle Janis.

 

Sharon didn’t sound disappointed, but maybe that’s because she’s saving it for when she sees Janis in person. Janis’s chest aches at the thought of her face when she gets out of the car.

 

Janis can handle absolutely anyone else being disappointed in her. But not Sharon. Janis has lived through adults at their worst when they’re upset with her, but Sharon’s not like that. So it’s significantly more awful to have her give you that look.

 

Especially when Janis considers her as more of a mother figure than anybody.

 

When Sharon asks for her location, she gives it. Then she tells Damian and Cady she’s fine—she just needs space. She texts with her left hand.

 

Her stomach basically falls out of her ass when Sharon’s car rounds the corner. Janis goes to sit on the nearby bench, where Sharon pulls up right in front of. The petite woman climbs out, and Janis’s heart aches more than it ever has. Sharon quietly shuts the car door, coming to sit down next to Janis on the bench. Janis doesn’t look at her face.

 

“You alright?” Sharon asks, because it’s her job to ask.

 

Janis shakes her head, picking at a hole in her tights that ripped when she fell a while ago. It’s the first time she’s noticing her knee is bleeding.

 

“What the hell happened?” Sharon sighs. Not disappointed. Just tired.

 

“Remember that guy?” Janis murmurs. “The one I told you about? From the party?”

 

Sharon raises her eyebrows, jaw tightening.

 

“Yeah.” Janis rubs her throat, wanting to gag. “Regina finally saw him again today. She said he knew it was her. She came into the caf looking petrified. Her face…it was the same expression she wore the night I found them in the room. As for his face… I mangled it again.”

 

Sharon is contemplative, then asks, “Did he provoke you, or harm her?”

 

Janis shakes her head. “No. I went after him.” She’s undecided yet if she feels good about that in particular.

 

Sharon sighs, long and heavy. “I understand why you did it,” she begins slowly. “The events at that party were rough on you, too. Seeing him again was triggering for both you and Regina. I don’t _not_ approve of wanting to defend her or yourself, even when it’s after the fact and he did nothing this time. And I’m _not_ saying he didn’t deserve it.”

 

Janis smiles, just a little bit.

 

“People like him are scum,” Sharon assures. “But,” and there it is, that damned dreaded word, “you know how I feel about you and violence.”

 

Janis looks ahead at the trees across the street from them. “You do know this is just who I am, right?” she says dryly. “Me and violence. You can’t have one without the other.”

 

This is why she doesn’t want to make things official with Cady. Because there’s this thing deep inside her—though maybe not so deep now—that is ugly and twisted and horrible, and when it comes out to play, there’s consequences.

 

And Janis can’t separate herself from that thing, because that thing is her. It’s a part of her that has been festering since she was four years old. There isn’t just rage and bitterness inside her—she is the rage and bitterness. It drives her forward out of spite, it makes her beat up people and reveal her inner monster to everybody around her. She _is_ fear. She _is_ anger.

 

She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if that directly impacted Cady.

 

“Why don’t we do something about that?” Sharon is suggesting gently, and Janis finally looks at her. She tucks a piece of hair behind Janis’s ear. “I can say this because it’s me, but…what if you went back to therapy? Did something different for this?”

 

Janis is afraid to think about what that would require from her. Not just mentally, but how it will affect her living situation. She has a sense she’d have to pick between that and therapy.

 

Because she can’t have two good things at once.

 

“Would I have to leave?” she asks thickly.

 

“That’s up to you,” Sharon tells her, as she predicted. “I’m sure we could find you a doctor here. But if you wanted to go back to the orphanage, the agency will find you someone like we have before. You go or stay where you think you’ll make progress.”

 

Janis’s head hurts. She licks her lips, looking down at her hands. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone I care about,” she whispers, and that decides it for her.

 

Sharon nods, stroking her hair. “I know. I don’t think you would. But I understand. The first step to getting help is admitting you need it.”

 

Janis has heard that a thousand times, read it on pamphlets and posters. This time it sticks.

 

She thinks about Regina. Her parents finally talked to her the other night. Janis held her while she cried after, scared of what’s going to happen next. They’re looking for a doctor, or just someone for her to talk to. But she knows she needs help. And she’s going to get it.

 

Janis has needed help before and she got it, too. But it just seems different now. Everything is different about the last near-seven months. Her fosters, her friends, her school. Her previously dysfunctional but now emotionally charged relationship with Regina.

 

Cady, her sort of girlfriend. Damian, her wonderful best friend.

 

She herself is different, even in small ways. Maybe she is better at hoping and believing, even when her brain tries to take that away from her.

 

She recalls what Nana Hubbard said, about being enough for yourself and not comparing your life to others’, especially those you love. Nobody is perfect. But everybody is enough.

 

Janis wants to finally feel like she is.

 

Sharon taps Janis’s cheek. “C’mon. Let’s get you home, kiddo.”

 

* * *

 

Stephanie is sobbing when Janis reluctantly leaves the car. Janis goes to her, though, and lets the woman hug her as long as she wants to.

 

Stephanie calms down once Janis is inside and has washed the blood off her hands. Regina is nowhere to be seen, and Janis can’t even imagine how she must be feeling. Which reminds her she isn’t the only one with repressed trauma.

 

“Is Regina okay?” she asks, cuddling Henry on the couch.

 

“She’s—yeah, she’s okay,” Stephanie says evasively, and Janis’s stomach churns.

 

Unfortunately Sharon can’t not put this in Janis’s file, but Janis cares little about that. Sharon’s reluctant to leave, feeling obligated to stick around. But Janis assures her she’s okay, and her fosters give them a moment to say goodbye.

 

“I’m sorry,” Janis mumbles once they’re alone. Henry licks her cheek.

 

“I know, kid,” Sharon sighs, squeezing her knee. “It’s gonna be okay, though.”

 

Janis looks at her doubtfully, and Sharon touches her chin. “You’re a tough cookie, Sarkisian. I have faith in you. Have you ever not come back from something like this?”

 

Janis shrugs. Usually she literally does get sent back after stuff like this.

 

“We’ll take care of you,” Sharon murmurs. “Okay?”

 

“What if he sues me?” Janis says shamefully.

 

Sharon chuckles. “Let’s not think too far ahead. Just relax tonight and don’t start any more shit for the rest of the school year. Think you can go two weeks?”

 

Janis scoffs. “Not unless he comes after _me._ ” Sharon raises her eyebrows, so she mutters, “Yeah, fine, I can go two weeks.”

 

She definitely doesn’t regret it. She _does_ regret whatever pain and misfortune this might bring the Georges. They’re the only family who have been good to her, and this is what she does.

 

He deserved it. Maybe just not from her.

 

Later she goes to check on Regina before bed, but for some reason can’t do it. She retires to her room and sends her friends one last text so they know she’s home safe.

 

 _Love you,_ Cady instantly writes, with the punch emoji. Janis laughs. And then she cries.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cannot believe this will be over in 2 weeks. i sad.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  sexual assault mention

Come Monday, Janis is genuinely shocked the police didn’t show up at the Georges’ door.

 

All heads turn in her direction when she and Regina walk in. She puts an arm around Regina’s shoulders, just because she’s had an unimaginably hard weekend and does not deserve to be scrutinized, either. Janis passes her off to Gretchen and Karen, because Janis has to drop by Principal Duvall’s office before class.

 

She saunters into the admin’s office, purposefully having put on extra eyeliner today to ensure nobody tries to mess with her. The receptionist points nervously to where she needs to go. She knocks on the door, taking a deep breath before she enters.

 

* * *

 

Mr. Duvall was going to suspend her, but given the fact school is out in two weeks, he decided it wasn’t an efficient enough punishment. She gives her statement and explains why she went berserk, keeping her eyes fixated on him the whole time, prepared to give a speech about why girls should be believed when they’re assaulted.

 

But Mr. Duvall merely sighs, long and heavy like he is prepared for that, and says, “Thank you, Miss Sarkisian. I admire your determination to stand up for your friend. But no kind of violence is tolerated here at North Shore. If you had a problem, reporting him would’ve been better.”

 

Janis breathes out slowly, trying to release the wave of anger before she speaks. She knows it wasn’t in her best interests to attack him, but what would the school have done if she reported him? He assaulted Regina months ago.

 

“What would you have done?” Janis asks, chest aching. “He sexually assaulted my sister. She recognized him on Friday and it scared the shit out of her.”

 

Mr. Duvall looks like he wants to avoid _that_ argument but also doesn’t necessarily doubt her at the same time, which she didn’t know was possible. He leans back in his chair and says, “Miss George went through something traumatic, as you said. Seeing her attacker must have been a harrowing moment for her. And of course you’d want to defend her. But not by harming him.”

 

“He started it,” Janis reminds him, full deadpan. She’s gripping the sides of her seat.

 

Mr. Duvall holds up a hand for patience. “I understand. I never said anyone who commits acts like that wouldn’t deserve it. But breaking his nose gets you nowhere. He’s still wandering the halls, isn’t he? What if he presses charges?”

 

Janis pokes her cheek with her tongue. “Right. Because I’d get arrested but he wouldn’t if she had reported what happened. And she didn’t, by the way, because she knew she wouldn’t get taken seriously. Which is fucked up. She was scared. And I guess I was, too.”

 

Janis swallows, sitting back in her chair, too, suddenly feeling tired. “I don’t care what happens to me, sir. I just want Regina and other girls to be able to come to school and not have to worry about seeing their potential rapist again.”

 

Mr. Duvall nods. “I understand,” he repeats. “As do I.” He sighs. “I’ll see what I can do. I know the year is coming to an end, but I will talk to him again.”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder, reaching for her bag. “Good luck getting a confession. But thanks.”

 

He nods, and she stands when he does. He offers his hand. She takes it. “You’ve been a good student, Miss Sarkisian,” he tells her sincerely.

 

“Thank you, sir,” she says quietly, and he excuses her. She wanders back to homeroom sort of dazed, and Cady leaps up to hug her when she gets closer to her desk. It helps.

 

* * *

 

On Tuesday night, Janis takes a plate of cookies up to Regina’s room to see if she wants any. Regina lets her come in when she knocks, but doesn’t want to climb out of her cozy cocoon of blankets. Janis goes to sit on her bed anyway, and tries not to laugh when a hand pokes out to retrieve a cookie then disappears with it.

 

Needless to say, Regina has been in a weird place the past few days.

 

She emerges eventually, and Janis gives her the last cookie. “Thanks,” she murmurs, taking it. “Can school be over already? I just wanna sleep.”

 

Janis laughs, laying down next to her. “Mood.”

 

Regina nibbles her cookie. She deserves to sleep—she looks exhausted.

 

“Wonder what Duvall’s gonna say to him,” she mumbles after a silence. “Probably nothing. Bet he only said that so you wouldn’t break _his_ nose.”

 

Janis laughs. “I dunno. I hope not. He seemed sincere.”

 

Regina gives her a look. “Since when do you trust men?”

 

Janis can’t argue with that, but Regina doesn’t look smug, just contemplative and a bit worried. Janis plays with a piece of her hair, unsure what to expect from this, either.

 

“Is it bad that I feel like shit about it?” Regina asks, and when Janis looks confused, she says, “Like. He didn’t even…he didn’t get very far. You stopped him. And I was so drunk. But I still—like, I was so freaked when I saw him.”

 

“He drugged you,” Janis reminds her gently. “It doesn’t matter if I stopped him. He still had his hands on you. He still took advantage of you. No, it’s not bad that you’ve been feeling weird. I get it. It’s okay to be triggered by things. Trauma is trauma.”

 

“It just seems…I don’t know. Like other people had it worse. It only _almost_ happened to me.”

 

“Regina.” Janis takes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. Her own are bruised again, healing. “ _It happened,_ ” she says in a low voice. “It was still assault. Doesn’t matter how far he did or didn’t get. It still happened.”

 

Regina sniffs, looking downright miserable. “I mean. It might as well have happened. I’m such an awful person. Maybe it was karma or whatever.”

 

“Stop. Stop it.” Janis shakes her head. “Don’t go there. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t care how flat out drunk you were before he drugged you, that’s not an excuse. He did it. Not you.” She puts a hand on Regina’s pale cheek. “Look at me. You’re not an awful person. You did not deserve it. It wasn’t karma. It was just a guy being an entitled, disgusting piece of shit.”

 

Regina blinks tears away, but nods. “Okay.”

 

Janis kisses her forehead. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Regina comes into Janis’s room that same night a couple hours later, still looking guilty. “I just realized I’m missing someone,” she says.

 

“Huh?” Janis turns down her music.

 

“I need to apologize to Cady,” Regina clarifies. “I said sorry to everyone but her.”

 

Janis sighs, inviting Regina to sit on her bed with her. “Maybe ’cause it’s the hardest apology,” she muses, and Regina nods, sighing.

 

“Does she hate me?” she whispers, looking at her hands.

 

“She doesn’t particularly like you,” Janis admits. “But she knows you’re important to me so she isn’t too outspoken about it. She also knows I know what you did was wrong. But I can’t be the one to tell her you’re sorry. You have to have that conversation with her.”

 

“I just don’t know what to say,” Regina admits, scared. “It’s so—it feels so insurmountable, like apologizing won’t do or change anything.”

 

“It might not change people being shitheads about it,” Janis tells her. “But to Cady I’m sure it’d mean the world. And she’s not a hateful person.” She tears up against her will, because being in love does that to you. “If you apologized and owned up to it, she’d be relieved.”

 

Regina swallows. “I don’t even care, y’know? Like. I’m not straight, either.” Her voice chokes—saying it out loud visibly takes effort. “But that’s why I did it. How do I…how do I tell her that? It’s just so much to unpack. I don’t know where to begin.”

 

“You don’t have to tell her you’re not straight,” Janis reminds her. “Just explain how your dad’s views affected you but still take responsibility for your actions. And one day, if you want to, you can tell her you were just scared for yourself. But any apology would make her happy. She just wants to put the whole thing behind her.”

 

Regina looks nervous, but nods her understanding. “Yeah. I do, too. I feel like…I can’t explore that part of myself until I make amends with her. Y’know? What I did sucked for the both of us. It’s kept me from figuring out who I am, because…how could I be gay if I did that to her?”

 

She scratches her arm fretfully, chewing her lip. Janis thinks she looks really pretty in sweats, no makeup, her hair in a bun. She’s stopped dyeing it, letting her natural color grow back in. It looks good. She’s always been beautiful, but there’s something so raw and tender about girls when they let their walls down, even for themselves.

 

“I get it,” Janis assures her. “Just think on it for a bit, okay? Write out what you wanna say. And if Cady’s upset or whatever, I’ll handle it. But if she gets mad at you or has a negative reaction, don’t blame her. All you can do is say what you wanna say and that’s that.”

 

“And the rest is confetti,” Regina murmurs.

 

* * *

 

She approaches the art freaks’ table the following day at lunch. “Hey, Cady,” she says, though her eyes are on Janis. Cady looks at Janis. Damian looks at Cady.

 

“Can we talk?” Regina says awkwardly, taking encouragement from Janis’s little nod. Janis is proud of her already. Like, really proud.

 

Cady points to herself, surprised. “Um. Me?”

 

“Yeah,” Regina says. Cady gives Janis a look, like _can I trust her?_ Janis nods.

 

“Oh-kay. Damian, watch my fries.” Cady stands and follows Regina out of the cafeteria. Janis’s leg jostles under the table, praying it goes well.

 

“I never thought this day would come,” Damian breathes, and guzzles his chocolate milk.

 

Across the caf, Janis spots _him._ His nose is still swollen and bruised. She wonders if Principal Duvall has talked to him yet, or what would even happen if he did. She also wonders how she and Regina have gone this long without recognizing or coming into contact with him.

 

Maybe they have seen him but both just refused to acknowledge it. Neither were ready to deal with it again. The brain works in weird ways.

 

Janis has yet to tell Damian or Cady about her plans for therapy and what it entails. She has a feeling she’d actually do better if she _wasn’t_ surrounded by people she loves—because she’s afraid she’ll center her recovery around making _them_ happy. Doing what she can to get better for _their_ sake. Which is still important, but she wants to get better for herself, too. She can still talk to them and have FaceTime dates with Cady and all that.

 

But time away might be good for her. She doesn’t know if she’ll come back, or if she’d even be allowed to live with the Georges again.

 

Weirdly, she’s not sure if she wants to. Everybody has wounds that need to heal. And although her reason for being here wasn’t to fix them, she has made an impact on their lives. Things will get better for them because of her. And maybe Janis needs to leave in order for them to heal first.

 

Janis is conflicted, because of course she doesn’t _want_ to leave. But wanting and needing are two different things. What they need is growth, but it’s okay to grow in separate places. Getting better happens at someone’s individual pace.

 

It’s not that she’d feel like a burden if she stayed. There’s just things people have to go through alone. They can love from afar. But their hearts need time to heal.

 

* * *

 

Janis preps for the last day of school by doubling her meds.

 

Regina drives with the windows down, and they’re laughing when they get there. They meet up with Gretchen and Karen in the parking lot, and when they head inside Cady bounds up to hug Janis. She and Regina share a small smile.

 

It went well. Compassionate Cady held Regina’s hand because she was shaking, and Regina powered through her apology, which Cady accepted. Cady later told Janis she’s not sure if her and Regina will ever be friends again, but she appreciated the effort nonetheless.

 

Not much work actually is done on the last day of school, and the teachers have mostly given up trying to corral everyone by lunchtime. Damian isn’t as miffed as Janis thought when they invite the Plastics to sit with them out of solidarity—he and Gretchen strike up a conversation about some new Broadway musical.

 

They’re all more alike than they think. People’s walls coming down is a beautiful thing to see.

 

It’s the last club meeting of the year, and Cady encourages Gretchen and Karen to come. “You too, Regina,” she adds, and Janis raises her eyebrows at Regina, who looks torn.

 

“Oh. Um. Yeah, I—uh, thanks,” she stammers. “But I think I’m gonna go.”

 

“Aw,” Gretch and Karen say mournfully.

 

“It’s the last day of school,” Gretch tells her, hugging her arm. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

 

“No, it’ll be weird,” Regina protests, wiggling out of her grasp. “They don’t like me, and I’m not—” She bites her lip, and Janis realizes Cady was just being nice, not inviting her because she told Cady she’s not straight. “You guys have fun, though.”

 

“Get home safe,” Janis tells her, closing the discussion so nobody can pressure her.

 

The group moves on without her, and Janis feels a tug in her heart watching Regina go in the other direction, weaving around the people still lingering in the halls.

 

Taylor and her mom baked extra goodies for today, and music is blasting. People cheer when they see Janis, Cady, and Damian, but Gretchen and Karen are greeted with suspicion.

 

“Not to worry, we have a permit,” Karen announces, and fishes through her bag til she finds a piece of paper and hands it to Sonja.

 

“This just says ‘we are gay and can do what we want,’” Sonja reads aloud, and her deadpan is even funnier than the fact Karen legitimately wrote that out.

 

But nobody questions it or gives the Plastics dirty looks. Gretchen, a natural-born party girl, is an instant hero because she brought vodka in a flask and pours some into people’s cups.

 

“Where’s Regina?” Taylor asks when Janis goes to get another brownie.

 

“She went home,” Janis tells her, and she frowns.

 

“Aw. I wanted to wish her a good summer,” Taylor laments, and Janis hugs her sideways.

 

“I’ll pass along the message,” she assures her, and Taylor claps.

 

Janis is really going to miss Taylor, and asks her if she wants to swap numbers. Janis doesn’t have the heart to mention she might not be back for their senior year, and Taylor gladly takes a few cute selfies with her to commemorate today.

 

Sonja proudly introduces Janis to Grace Akinola, who is now her girlfriend, and Grace goes off for five minutes about how they met as if Janis didn’t literally push them together. It’s a cute story regardless, and Janis has never seen Sonja smile so much.

 

It’s a fun party. It’d be more fun if Regina was here.

 

Everyone signs each other’s yearbooks; Karen simply leaves a lipstick kiss. If this were a film, someone—probably Janis—would stand up and give a speech about being grateful they found this place and feeling accepted with these people. But it’s one of those things where they each know that already; nothing needs to be said.

 

That’s the cool thing about being gay around other gays. You can just be and they all get it.

 

They’re there until the school security guard has to come and lock up.

 

Cady leans on Janis’s shoulder during the drive back to her house, with Janis’s on Damian’s. Janis texts Stephanie when they get there so she knows where she is, then feels compelled to tell Regina she missed her during the party.

 

Regina says maybe next year she’ll be there. Janis hopes so.

 

“Quit stealing my stuff,” Cady whines as Janis puts back yet another flannel she swiped. Janis kisses the pout off her lips and Damian pretends to cry.

 

They watch _The Breakfast Club_ and drink smoothies Cady’s mom made, Simon sprawled over Janis’s lap. When she no longer has a drink to hold, Janis’s hand ends up on Cady’s arm, nails stroking absentmindedly. Lately she’s felt the urge to touch Cady whenever, wherever.

 

She feels like her inner hourglass is running out of sand and wants to fill every second left with Cady. Even if it’s as simple as touching her arm.

 

She doesn’t know what she’ll do without Damian, either. He’s always _there._ He’s the dumbest, funniest, smartest, sweetest, weirdest person she knows. Not seeing him nearly every day just might kill her. She can’t handle both.

 

As for Regina—she’ll miss her, too. They have their stupid perfect moments. Now that they’ve found common ground, Janis considers Regina a friend. Janis remembers referring to her as a sister, unintentionally so—but it’s true. They have the kind of bickering rollercoaster relationship actual siblings have. Janis didn’t expect to find a sister in all this. Neither did Regina.

 

Janis kisses Cady on the front porch step when she and Damian go to leave. Cady has a little furrow in her brow, barely noticeable, but like she senses something is off with Janis.

 

“You okay?” she asks, fingers brushing Janis’s jaw.

 

Janis sighs, hands on Cady’s hips. “Yeah. It’s just been a long day.”

 

Cady knows that’s not entirely it, but won’t push it. She makes Janis promise to text her when she gets home, and then they reluctantly part.

 

As fate would have it, Janis and Damian’s favorite song comes on, and jamming to it for three minutes makes her forget about everything else. That’s just what it’s like being friends with him and Cady: you forget so you can live. No pressure or expectations.

 

Janis doesn’t know why it feels like the end when she hasn’t even made a decision yet.

 

“Can you promise me something?” she asks as Damian parks in front of the house.

 

“Yeah. Anything,” he says, turning down the radio.

 

Janis can’t look at him, not wanting him to see the tears she’s fighting. “Do you promise to be my friend no matter what?” she asks softly.

 

“Duh,” he says, then, more seriously, “Yeah, I promise. Why?”

 

That’s all she needed to hear. She lifts her head and dramatically bats her eyelashes. “I have to tell you something,” she confesses in a breathy voice. Then, in a deadpan, “I’m straight.”

 

He cracks up and so does she, and God, if she could bottle up the sound of his laughter and put in a jar, she would. She’d lift the lid to hear it wherever she goes.

 

“Sure Jan,” he laughs as she climbs out of the truck. She blows him a kiss and he blows one back. As always, he waits for her to reach the door. He’d wait even longer if he had to.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew. okay. here we go. last one and then the epilogue next week. ♡

As much as Janis hates to actually admit it, leaving does seem like the best thing for her.

 

It’s ironic, isn’t it? This entire time she’s been waiting to be kicked out. Waiting to be too much. Waiting to pack up her stuff and go back to Naperville.

 

There’s some symbolism in choosing to leave instead, right? She lays awake thinking about it, trying to pinpoint how this means something. But her head is hurting and her heart is aching—she already cannot cope with a decision she made five minutes ago.

 

She doesn’t sleep much the rest of the night, and the overwhelming guilt is already settling by the time she calls Sharon around noon.

 

“I know what I wanna do,” she tells her, and Sharon sighs.

 

“Yeah?” Sharon sounds tentative, but hopeful.

 

“Yeah. I should leave.” Saying it out loud is even worse. “I just think maybe… I would do better if I had time to myself, you know? Is that weird?”

 

“Not weird at all,” Sharon assures her. Janis can always count on her to understand. “It’s really mature to acknowledge that for yourself. Can I ask why, though?”

 

Janis shrugs even though Sharon can’t see. “Well, Regina is gonna go see someone. For a variety of reasons. And she said she’s open to family counseling with her parents. I feel like I’d be in the way. And they should focus on each other, y’know? I’m not really a part of that. And it would just be easier for me to be alone.”

 

It feels weird trying to explain it to someone, but at least it’s Sharon, who grasps Janis’s way of thinking better than most people. And it’s good to know that no matter what Janis felt like doing, she would have her back. As her case worker, she has to have Janis’s best interests at heart.

 

“Alright, then,” Sharon says lightly. “Are you going to talk to them about it today? Remember, it doesn’t have to happen right away. You can take a few days.”

 

“No, it should happen now,” Janis murmurs. “The sooner, the better, I think.”

 

“Okay. Let me know when you talk to them so I can give them a call. And tell the agency, too.” Ah, the agency. Janis always forgets Sharon isn’t some independent worker sent from the heavens to guide her. “I won’t bore you with that, though. Take your time if you have to.”

 

“I will. Thanks.” Janis bites her lip, hesitant to hang up. “Sharon? Um. What if they get mad?”

 

“Who, the Georges?” Janis hums. “Oh, honey, no. They love you. They’ll want what’s best for you, like any parent, foster or otherwise. They can’t keep you there against your will, that’d be kidnapping, I’m pretty sure.” That gets a laugh out of her. “It’ll be fine.”

 

“I just feel bad,” Janis whispers. “Steph is so sensitive, I don’t want her to think it’s her fault…I don’t want to leave her in general. Like, after everything, I’m just gonna up and leave? I finally have a family who like me and probably would adopt me if the time came, and I’m gonna leave them? That seems fucked up. Am I fucked up?”

 

Sharon has essentially given up correcting her swearing, because she doesn’t bother. “Honey. Listen. It’s not their fault. It’s not yours, either. Sometimes you have to do what’s best for you. If that means leaving, so be it. It’s going to suck saying goodbye and I hate that for you, but if it’s ultimately going to be good for all of you, then it has to happen. But it doesn’t mean you can’t still be friends with Regina. You can still ask Stephanie for motherly advice. Your time here can come to a close but the relationships you made don’t have to.”

 

Janis knew that already, but reassurance is helpful. “Would I get to come back?”

 

Sharon is quiet for a moment, then says, “If you wanted to. Right now it might seem like this is an unfortunate bridge you have to cross. But on the other side, when you’re feeling better, you will look back and see that maybe not returning is still what’s best for you. You never know. I’m not saying that will happen, I want you to go where you’re safe. I can’t speak or think for you. I just mean maybe time away will make you realize your time there was just the start.”

 

The rest being the middle. Janis isn’t so sure where it’ll end.

 

But Sharon is right—it doesn’t have to. That’s the beauty of love, it can be felt anywhere.

 

* * *

 

Janis doesn’t know where to begin, and Stephanie looks like she’s expecting to hear someone died, but eventually Janis manages to get the words out. She’s honest with her and Alexander, telling them what she wants to do and why.

 

Naturally she ends it with a tearful “I’m sorry,” which gets her pulled into a hug. She cries then, but is proud of herself for getting through that without breaking.

 

“It’s not you,” Janis insists, as Stephanie wipes her own eyes. Having done that to her makes Janis want to stab herself in the face. “I promise, it’s all me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“What’s going on?” Regina’s voice asks from the stairs, and Janis wants to throw up. Regina is visibly concerned, walking over nervously.

 

Stephanie waves her over, so she comes to sit down next to her dad, who puts his arm around her. “Who died?” she says reluctantly. She and her mom are so alike.

 

“No one,” Stephanie assures, then looks at Janis.

 

Janis takes a deep breath and says to Regina, “I’m leaving.”

 

Regina’s eyes get wide and for a moment she doesn’t say anything. Then she looks downright hurt, standing from the couch to put distance between herself and them. “What?”

 

“I’m going back to therapy,” Janis explains, voice wobbling.

 

“You can’t do that here?” Regina demands loudly, sounding defensive. The snark crawls back, an old coping mechanism. To hide behind sarcasm but still show people that she’s offended. “Are we not good enough for you anymore, or what?” Her voice catches, and Janis inhales. Regina starts to cry and storms out of the room, running upstairs.

 

“Oh, Regina—” Stephanie laments as Janis chases after her, calling for her to wait. She slams the door and Janis hears a click right as she’s reaching it, heart in her throat.

 

“I’m sorry,” she croaks, turning the doorknob, to no avail.

 

“You can’t leave!” Regina shrieks tearfully beyond the door. “You can’t fucking leave me, Janis, it’s not fair! What am I supposed to do?”

 

“Regina, please, let me in,” Janis begs, as Stephanie and Alex appear behind her. She runs to her room and finds a paperclip in her desk, unfurling it on her way back. She jams it inside the lock until she can open the door, finding Regina on her ottoman with her face in her hands.

 

“Hey,” Janis whispers, sitting down beside her and hugging her. Regina doesn’t resist, and her parents smartly decide to give the girls some privacy.

 

Janis lets Regina cry, chin on her head. Regina clings to her arm, where tears fall. Janis really didn’t expect such a visceral reaction; maybe some frustrated yelling, but not crying like this.

 

Janis knows Regina has grown to love her. But loving somebody and them being so important that their departure would make you fall apart—Janis did not think she was that person for her. She thought Cady would do this. Not Regina.

 

“I’m sorry,” Janis mumbles into Regina’s hair when Regina starts to quieten.

 

Regina shakes her head. “You can’t leave. You can stay. There’s doctors here. You don’t have to go away to get help. You have to stay, please, I don’t want you to go.”

 

“Shhh. I know.” Janis smooths her hand over Regina’s back, then gently sits her up. “I’m sorry, babe. I don’t wanna leave, either.”

 

“Then don’t,” Regina pleads in this tiny voice, as Janis dries her face with her sleeve.

 

“I have to,” Janis murmurs. “I gotta go where I can get better.”

 

“You can get better here,” Regina insists. Janis recognizes the fear in her eyes, the doubt and the pain. She doesn’t want to be abandoned. The first person who understands her in years is leaving, and she’s terrified. What _is_ she supposed to do?

 

“ _You_ can,” Janis tells her, taking her hand. “This is where you belong. This is your home. Your family. We both have things that need mending. And I realized it’d be easier for me if I was in a place where I can’t compare myself to others.”

 

Regina listens despite her obvious inner turmoil. “Okay,” she finally says. “Why wouldn’t it be easier to be with people you like? Who you can be with when things are rough?”

 

“I’m used to taking care of myself,” Janis admits. “That sounds more like something that’d help you. But my problems are about me, not other people. So I have to focus on myself.”

 

Regina nods, looking down at their hands. After a long, thoughtful silence, she murmurs, “Are—are we still gonna be friends?”

 

“Sisters,” Janis corrects, and Regina smiles. “Yes, of course. And I’m not going far. Only a few hours away. I can come visit. I mean, it’s summer.”

 

Regina sniffs and hugs her, cheek on her shoulder. “Sorry for freaking out.”

 

Janis rubs her back. “It’s okay, I understand. We’re gonna be okay though, yeah? You and me? We both get to go to therapy and work through our shit. You’re not doing it alone.”

 

Regina huffs a laugh. “I’ll think of you when I’m being psychoanalyzed.”

 

“Same,” Janis whispers. It’s a really good hug.

 

* * *

 

Sharon comes the next day, bringing paperwork into the house to talk details with the Georges and Janis. Basically they literally have to sign off on letting her go. Janis has never witnessed that.

 

It’s happened thirteen times before. Janis feels compelled to watch this one. Either out of guilt or simply moral obligation. Maybe a mix of both.

 

Because there’s more stuff to go over after that, Janis asks Cady if she and Damian can come over. She waits on the porch with a knot in her stomach, and Damian picks up on her negative vibes as soon as she climbs into his truck.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asks as she buckles her seatbelt.

 

Janis half-shrugs. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

 

Cady is out with Simon in the front porch when they pull up, and Janis could actually cry. She’s leaving tomorrow evening and there doesn’t seem to be enough time in the world for this. She would have stayed a few more days but the placement was terminated once the agency found out. Sharon tried to negotiate for more time, but they were adamant.

 

She doubts they’d be so strict on anybody else.

 

“What happened?” Cady asks as soon as Janis walks around the front of the truck. It must be showing on her face. There’s no point in hiding it.

 

“I have to tell you guys something,” she murmurs reluctantly, and Cady goes pale. “I’m fine, it’s not life or death, I just—I don’t have a lot of time. Can we go downstairs?”

 

Simon perches between Cady and Damian on the couch while Janis paces, fussing anxiously with her ring. “You sure it’s not life or death?” Damian questions.

 

She takes a deep breath, shaking the nerves from her hands. “Okay. Let me start by saying I’d stick around longer if I could. But everything happened so fast and now I…have no choice but to leave. Um—yeah, so, that’s it. I’m…going back.”

 

There’s a pause, and she definitely could’ve worded it more delicately, and she winces at their mutual expressions of horror.

 

Cady shakes her head and rubs her ears like she misheard her. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“What do you mean, you’re going back?” Damian says, his voice catching. Janis feels her face go through the seven stages of grief in three seconds.

 

“I—therapy reasons,” she stammers. “I can’t—I can’t do that here. I’m sorry.”

 

Cady stands up, staring at her like she isn’t sure whether or not to be mad or heartbroken. “So that’s it, you’re just gonna fucking leave?”

 

Janis steps back, feeling stung. Damian touches Cady’s elbow and utters a soft “hey,” wanting her to back down before she says something she’ll regret.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us you wanted to go back to therapy?” Cady demands, eyes wet. “And you really can’t do that around here?” Janis wishes people would stop saying that.

 

“No, I can’t, because I don’t want to,” Janis fires back, sick of being guilt-tripped for wanting to put her needs first for once in her life. “I’ve got a lot of issues, Caddy, issues I don’t _want_ to get over while living here. Therapy sucks for me. It dredges up a lot of bad stuff. I’m not gonna risk hurting anybody because I’m too emotional.”

 

“You’re not gonna hurt us,” Cady argues breathlessly.

 

“I might. No exceptions.” Janis folds her arms stiffly. “Love won’t keep me from lashing out. It’s actually more of a risk. So I just felt it’d be better if I went back and tried therapy there.”

 

“Okay, but when are we gonna see you again?”

 

“I dunno,” Janis admits. “That’s not up to me. I have to focus on me, Caddy. I can’t do that if I’m here. It might not make sense to you, but it does to me.”

 

“Isn’t being in a relationship about helping each other grow and feel better about themselves?” Cady asks, arms spread emphatically, and Damian raises his eyebrows.

 

Janis bites her tongue, then says, “Who said we were in a relationship?”

 

Damian covers his mouth with his hands. Cady gapes.

 

“This is why I didn’t wanna make things official!” Janis shouts. “This is why I couldn’t tell you how I felt for so long. Because I knew this was going to happen. I’d have to leave and it would hurt too much. This is why I don’t call you my girlfriend, because that’s even worse. I love you, Caddy, more than anything. But I think we all knew I was gonna have to go at some point. We just didn’t wanna acknowledge it. Because it sucks.”

 

It’s silent. Damian’s eyes are rimmed in red, and tears slip down Cady’s cheeks as she pouts. Yelling at Cady makes Janis feel awful, but only proves her original point.

 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, hands in her pockets so they won’t see them shaking. “I didn’t mean to yell. But you get it now, right? This is why. I have to leave so I can get better. Doesn’t mean I can’t still talk to you guys. There’s just a lot of me I still need to figure out. It’s not that I want to leave you. It’s that I have to. I’m sorry.”

 

Another pause, calmer than the first. Then Damian gets up to hug her, and she breathes in his cinnamon scent like she won’t probably actually say goodbye tomorrow.

 

Cady weaves her way into the embrace, hiding her face in Janis’s shoulder. She cries silently, Janis’s hand stroking her back, and it hurts so bad yet so sweet at the same time. Her people love her so much; more than they can express. So they turn to a single hug to show it, hoping she can feel every ounce of love they have stored for her.

 

They have a little more time. Just enough for this.

 

* * *

 

They order a pizza. They watch one of Janis’s favorite movies. They paint their nails together, including Damian, pink for Wednesday to honor their new friends, the Plastics. When Damian goes to use the bathroom at one point, Cady peppers Janis’s face in kisses.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, as Janis hauls her onto her lap. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

 

“I know,” Janis murmurs, kissing her cheek.

 

“I’m just gonna miss you a lot,” Cady says, forehead against Janis’s, who rubs her thumb over Cady’s bottom lip. “I know we can text and stuff, but it’s not the same. I like hearing your voice in person. And your laugh. None of that’s the same over the phone.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis agrees, and kisses her softly. “I’ll come back.”

 

Cady takes Janis’s hands and cups her face with them. “Promise?”

 

Janis strokes her cheekbones. “Promise. Nothing could keep me away from you forever. And I’m sorry this was so last-minute.”

 

Cady shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.”

 

Damian comes back then, so Cady migrates back to Janis’s side, comfortably cuddled up. He mirrors her on Janis’s left, so now she’s being double snuggled. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

 

* * *

 

She spends the rest of the night and then most of the following day packing up her room. She carefully takes down her wall of sketches, organizing them in a pile. Her clothes all still fit in the suitcases she moved in with, the rest of her immediate belongings going in her backpack. She used to be wary of Regina going through her stuff—she’s glad that was never an issue.

 

Stephanie tells her to leave the lights on the bed, so when they’re on it’ll “feel like you’re here.” A few extra boxes have her miscellaneous belongings she collected over time, and Alexander carefully places them in the backseat of Sharon’s car, the suitcases in the trunk. Janis checks drawers to make sure she got everything. Mostly to stall.

 

It’s a hot day. Janis has her hair pulled back, and so does Regina. Henry got a haircut so he’s handsome and ready for summer, sporting a flashy bow-tie instead of a sweater.

 

Janis left a letter on the kitchen counter. It’s as long as she could write it before she started to cry. But it’s there for them to read when they’re ready.

 

Goodbyes take a while. Stephanie clings to her, stroking her hair. She doesn’t cry, channeling all her feelings into the fierceness of the hug. Janis has so many things she wants to say. So many words she wishes she could tell her to express how thankful she is.

 

“Thank you,” Stephanie is the first to say, giving Janis one last squeeze before they part. She holds her face for a moment, looking at her with so much love and pride in her eyes that Janis can hardly physically stand it. She’s too good.

 

“You are a gift,” Stephanie tells her, soft but sincere. “We are all so lucky to know you, precious girl. I have enjoyed every minute with you. You are bright and kind and have so much ahead of you. Thank you for sharing your light with us. I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too,” Janis chokes out, and hugs her again.

 

Then she hugs Alex, who she never was particularly close with but still liked being around. He is a good man, a good husband to Stephanie, a good father to Regina—and to Janis. The type of man Regina’s first father should have been.

 

She and Regina look at each other for a long moment when their turn comes, talking through their eyes, both realizing the weight of what they want to say is too insurmountable to speak. A feeling of loss begins to ache in Janis’s chest when she reaches for her, pulling the blonde into a hug. Regina tucks her face in Janis’s neck, and Janis can vaguely hear Stephanie sniffling.

 

“I left you something on your bed,” Janis murmurs. It’s nothing big, just something she finished a few days ago and was waiting for the right time to give to her.

 

Stephanie put the paintings of her and Alex above the mantle. Regina’s can go there, too.

 

“Text me whenever,” Janis tells her when Regina still doesn’t speak. Regina nods, biting her lip to keep from crying. She holds on to Janis’s hand until Janis climbs into the front seat, bag at her feet. Regina goes to stand in between her parents, tears spilling quietly.

 

Sharon and Stephanie hug, exchanging a few more words Janis can’t hear. She blows them a kiss when Sharon joins her and starts the car.

 

Janis can’t bring herself to look back before the car turns out of sight. She feels like the true start of her life is being left behind her, while the rest is in front.

 

* * *

 

Damian steps out onto his porch when Sharon parks in the driveway. “Gimme a few minutes,” Janis says thickly, popping open the door.

 

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Take your time,” Sharon assures her.

 

Damian smiles when Janis walks up the steps, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Nana rushes over to enthusiastically hug Janis when she walks in, lamenting about how sad she is to see her go until Damian has to gently pry the older woman off of her.

 

But Janis takes her hands and says, “I haven’t known you for long, but you’re the coolest nana ever and Damian’s really lucky to have you. I don’t remember my grandma but if she was alive and I still knew her, I’d want her to be like you.”

 

“Aw, baby,” Nana sniffs, hugging her again.

 

Luckily Damian’s mom and Sasha are there, giving her equally wonderful hugs. Whitney thanks her for being a friend to her son, saying she and Cady are the lights of his life. Damian has to look at his feet when Janis tells her he’s the light of hers, and it’s true.

 

Nana gives her approximately three more hugs before she’s able to leave, and stands behind the screen door watching Damian walk Janis back to the car.

 

Halfway between there and the front door, Janis throws her arms around him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Then he hugs her back twice as hard, coughing a sob into her neck. She cries only because it’s him and neither of them care.

 

When it comes to him and Cady, hugging them is like holding the world in her arms.

 

“I love you,” Janis hiccups, because it’s all she can think to say. “I’m sorry. I love you so much, I’m sorry. I wish I could take you with me.”

 

He laughs wetly. “Me, too. But it’s okay. I love you, Sarkisian. Send me a postcard.”

 

That lightens the mood a little, but pulling apart is still the worst thing Janis has ever had to do. He’s so warm and smells good and he’s a piece of home in a life where she doesn’t have one.

 

“Just take care of yourself, alright?” he whispers.

 

She nods, patting his cheek. “I will. Thank you for being my friend, Hubbard comma Damian.”

 

He takes her hand, the one that’s still a tad bruised, and kisses it. “It’s been an honor, Sarkisian comma Janis.”

 

He shoots her fingers guns before Sharon drives off, and that makes her laugh. He probably wanted his last current image of her to be her smiling.

 

* * *

 

Janis stands at Cady’s front door for a solid minute before knocking.

 

Mrs. Heron answers, looking somber, and as most mothers have done today, gives her a long, appreciative hug. “Cady’s upstairs,” she tells her when they part, and Janis forces her lead-like legs to carry her there, still sniffling over Damian.

 

She raps her knuckles against Cady’s door. “Caddy?” she says, her voice already trembling. It takes a few seconds for Cady to tell her she can come in. She does so, reluctantly.

 

Cady’s on her bed with her phone, cuddling Roary. She won’t look at Janis when Janis comes to sit at her feet, squeezing her calf in greeting.

 

Nothing is said for a couple minutes. Then Cady puts her phone down with a heavy sigh, and forces herself to sit up. Her eyes are bloodshot, like she’s been crying.

 

Janis touches her chin. “You okay, froggy?”

 

Cady shakes her head, climbing into her lap wordlessly. They hold each other, not talking, not even crying. They just listen to the other breathe, and it’s the only sound in the world.

 

“You’ll come back,” Cady whispers, almost inaudibly, and it’s not a question. It’s a statement of faith, saying it just to acknowledge it will happen.

 

“Yeah,” Janis murmurs, running her finger down the bridge of Cady’s nose. “To you, always.”

 

Cady sits up and kisses her then, and Janis lets herself fall backward so Cady can lay on top. It’s usually the other way around, but it’s for the sake of trying new things.

 

They don’t get frisky, but there is an urgency in the way they kiss. Janis slips her hands under Cady’s shirt, pressing her palms to her warm back, just to feel the heat of her soft skin. It’s like touching a blanket, or maybe a cloud.

 

For the moon, she’s rather warm. More like an eclipse. Or maybe that’s just them combined.

 

Eventually, slowly, unwillingly, they stop. They sit back up, heads spinning. Their hands are intertwined on top of Cady’s bedspread. Janis feels sick.

 

“I love you,” she says quietly. “I’m in love with you. I sort of believe that I deserve to have you be in love with me, too. But that’s why I’m going away. So I can convince myself that I do.”

 

Cady gets up and pads to her desk, returning with the flannel Janis always winds up stealing. She holds it up and Janis lets her put it on over her shirt.

 

Cady stands between Janis’s knees, hands on her jaw. She looks down into her eyes for a bit, tracing the shape of her eyebrows, her nose, her lips with a reverent fingertip.

 

“I love you, too,” she finally says, and kisses her once more.

 

They go back downstairs hand-in-hand, and Janis smothers Simon in goodbye kisses. Cady’s mother comes for one last hug and to wish her well.

 

Cady walks out onto the porch with her, where Janis wraps her in a real hug. Cady sags into it, like she can barely hold herself up from grief. It really does feel like a terrible loss. But what Janis will gain from this is the point.

 

“Bye, froggy,” she murmurs into Cady’s shoulder.

 

“Bye, froggy,” Cady echoes, and Janis hums.

 

The flannel doesn’t match her outfit at all, and it’s too warm for it, but Janis will be damned for not wearing it the entire drive back. Sharon doesn’t mention it.

 

Janis waves at Cady and Cady waves back, her mother coming to stand with her on the porch as the car pulls away. Janis reaches into her backpack and pulls out her phone.

 

 

Something for Cady to read when she returns to her room, likely in tears.

 

Janis breaks down then, and tells Sharon not to stop the car. Sharon does anyway, and holds her for a minute, because as a mother it’s all she can do.

 

Janis sobs for the first hour of the drive. She lets it all out, unable to stop if she tried. She calms down eventually, but tears still flow. She looks out the window at the passing world and tugs her flannel closer around her.

 

In her heart she knows she made the right choice.

 

And she wouldn’t have been able to do it if she hadn’t met people who made her feel like she finally deserves to love herself as much as she loves them. Because not all broken things need fixing. They just need a little love to feel whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love you all. epilogue next week. i know this ending is not the usual for these types of stories, but i hope next week wraps it up in a way that everyone is happy with. ♡


	34. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> truly can’t believe it’s the end. it feels like just yesterday we were starting.
> 
> while not the end i’m sure many of you were hoping for, i think this is even better. enjoy. ♡

The fire alarm in the kitchen is going off, but Janis is unfazed as she walks down the stairs.

 

“Really?” she says, hands on her hips, when she enters the room. Sharon, coughing, bats the smoke away with a hand towel. The cookies on the pan are burnt to a crisp.

 

“Don’t give me that look, you burned a grilled cheese last month,” Sharon gripes.

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t set off the alarm.” Janis grabs the stick they keep in the corner for this very purpose, raising it to the ceiling to press the alarm so it’ll stop wailing. Then she opens up the window above the sink, cold air swooping in.

 

Sharon dumps the blackened cookies into the trash can. “Well,” she says, dropping the pan in the sink. “I hope Mrs. George baked some. At least I can say I tried.”

 

Janis pats her shoulder. “Uh-huh. A for effort, Mom.”

 

She mostly calls her that as an ironic joke, but Sharon gives her a soft look regardless.

 

“You look cute, by the way,” Sharon tells her, cleaning up the mess. Janis touches her dress, a sleeveless, flat red thing with one of Sharon’s leather jackets on top, long legs clad in fishnets, Doc Martens on her feet. She feels pretty.

 

“What time is it, anyway?” Sharon glances at the time on the stove. “Oh, shit, I gotta get ready. Disinfect the counter for me, would you?” Her and her disinfectants.

 

Janis does it, though, because—and she’d never admit this to anyone—she likes cleaning.

 

Sharon doesn’t take long to get ready, maybe forty-five minutes, but Janis grows restless while she waits. She checks the clock, watches the sky grow darker outside. She wanted to be there before the others showed up. A kind of reverse surprise guest.

 

They literally don’t know she’s coming. Stephanie and Alex do because Sharon set this up, but Regina has no clue and neither do Cady and Damian.

 

Janis would be worried about Cady and Regina having to socialize if they weren’t already. She was relieved to find out Cady invited the Plastics (and Damian) to her birthday party—they got manicures and facials and had a sleepover at Regina’s. Like old times.

 

Janis wasn’t jealous. She couldn’t be there, so she was just glad Cady wasn’t alone. Regina is also happy to be in Cady’s good graces again; she texts Janis pictures of them hanging out all the time. They’ve been rebuilding their friendship over the summer, bit by bit. Regina even told Cady the full truth just recently to further explain her actions; Regina told Janis that, while hard, both she and Cady felt better afterwards.

 

Regina has yet to attend a club meeting, but progress is progress.

 

Sharon comes downstairs as Janis is locking up the windows. She is about to poke fun at her for taking so long when she sees the folder in Sharon’s hands.

 

Sharon smiles lightly and jerks her head towards the couch. “Come sit with me, kid.”

 

Heart in her throat, Janis shuts off the kitchen light and goes to sit down on the couch. Sharon takes a deep breath and hands her the folder, then kneads her hands nervously.

 

“Was gonna wait until tomorrow,” she says as Janis merely looks at the blank cover. “Tie it with a bow or something. But tonight is special. So, here you go.”

 

Janis slowly opens the folder, where several unsigned documents are tucked inside. She looks at them for a minute, pulling them out to read the letters at the top of each one, trying to make sense of their significance, of what they are.

 

“No pressure,” Sharon murmurs. “I sent in the application before we moved. I have to sign and give it back before the first of the year. Which I’m now realizing doesn’t give you much time—”

 

“I don’t need time,” Janis interrupts breathlessly, gently sliding the adoption papers back inside the folder. She hugs Sharon tightly, and the woman hugs her back twice as hard, and they just sit there on their couch, in their house, hugging for a long time.

 

Janis wasn’t back at the orphanage for very long. Once her therapist suggested she live in an environment with less stress and loud noises, Sharon herself applied for a placement, and she got it. Janis moved in with her on Cady’s birthday, as fate would have it.

 

The only reason Janis gets to see everyone tonight is because Sharon got transferred a month ago, directly back to Chicago, now working for a higher-up adoption agency. She only took the job because Janis said she felt okay with leaving her therapist.

 

After all, she could always find someone here.

 

“Are you sure?” Sharon asks, holding Janis’s grinning face.

 

Janis nods. “So sure.” If anyone was ever destined to be her mother, of course it’d be Sharon. Maybe Sharon has been her mom this whole time.

 

No, not maybe. She undeniably is.

 

Sharon kisses her cheek. “Merry Christmas, daughter.”

 

* * *

 

Of course it’s begun to snow when Sharon pulls up to the George’s. Luckily, they’re the first ones here, and Janis is shaking with anticipation as they exit the car.

 

Stephanie answers the door and Janis gets the first hug as Sharon bends to pet Henry, who is sporting his Christmas sweater once again.

 

Alex comes to say hi when they finally come inside, Stephanie trying to dry her eyes. Alex tells Janis she looks beautiful, giving her a characteristically gentle hug.

 

There’s chatter for a few minutes, then a door bursts open upstairs and Regina runs out of her room. Janis only knows it’s her because she screams her name, and Regina all but jumps into her arms when she reaches the bottom of the stairs.

 

She nearly knocks Janis off her feet because she’s so heavy now. Or maybe she just feels like it because she was so thin the last time Janis held her.

 

Either way, when they squeal over each other, Janis is delighted to see how healthy she looks compared to this same day a year ago. She’s wearing a different outfit, and just glows with the actual confidence she had been feigning for so long.

 

Regina drags her upstairs to her room, which looks totally different. Less pink and more calm, pastel tones, her canopy gone, and there’s now glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling that Cady gave her for her birthday. She always wanted them but felt they were childish, but takes a lot of comfort in them now on nights where she’s having trouble sleeping.

 

She donated a lot of her clothes, things she’d both grown out of and would never wear again. Her wardrobe is also less pink and in your face, more toned down and casual. (She still loves skirts and high heels. You can pry them from her cold dead hands.)

 

“Mom didn’t tell me you were coming,” she laments, squeezing Janis again.

 

“Sorry,” Janis laughs. “Merry Christmas, I guess.”

 

“No, absolutely. I missed you so much. How is this even possible?”

 

They sit on Regina’s new bed and Janis tells her everything. When Regina asks about school, Janis says she’s studying at home per doctor’s orders. Her grades have actually gotten better; not that they were bad before, but the lack of distractions and peer pressure make it easier.

 

“I’m really happy for you,” Regina says when Janis shares the good news. “That’s awesome.”

 

Janis feels a flash of guilt then, realizing she won’t ever be Regina’s official sister. “I’m sorry. It just occurred to me this means your parents can’t—”

 

Regina puts a finger to her mouth. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. You have something good with her. If your home happens to be with her now, that’s okay. You deserve it so much. At least you’re _here_.”

 

Janis exhales, trying not to feel overwhelmed. “Yeah.”

 

Regina smiles, but then punches her in the arm. “Also, I can’t believe you’ve been here almost a whole month and managed to not tell me.”

 

“Trust me, it was the hardest secret I’ve ever had to keep,” Janis assures her.

 

The doorbell rings then, and her gut clenches. Regina gasps.

 

They run downstairs together, and Janis hides in the sitting room while Regina grandly opens the door. The Hubbards are welcomed inside, and Janis could cry at the mere glimpse of her best friend. He looks handsome as always.

 

Then she quietly approaches from behind and taps him on the shoulder, and he whips around, and promptly begins simultaneously screaming and hugging her. He hugs her so tight she can hardly breathe. And then Nana joins in and it’s by far the best hug Janis has ever gotten.

 

Once those initial tears are shed and she kisses his face all but a hundred times, they go to sit on the staircase, elbows linked, her head on his shoulder.

 

“I’m not even gonna question how you’re here right now,” he says. “I’m too happy.”

 

Janis laughs. “Well. Don’t worry about me leaving ever again.” When he gasps in delight, she tells him, and he starts crying again, saying “oh my God” over and over while he hugs her.

 

Him and Regina are also friends now, apparently, and share their excitement for Janis. They’re all on the steps talking about it and what Janis has been up to when there’s one last ring of the bell, and Janis feels her soul detach from her body then reenter in the same moment.

 

“Go upstairs and hide in your room,” Regina hisses, and Janis bounds up the steps.

 

Her room is still intact, just more bare. The lights strung on her headboard are on, illuminating the otherwise darkened room. It’s cozy and warm. She goes to sit on her old bed, shaking by the time she hears footsteps approach the door.

 

“Wait, this is Janis’s room,” Cady’s voice points out, and she inhales at the sound.

 

Janis stands and smooths her dress and hair, heart racing a mile a minute. _I’ll Be Home For Christmas_ drifts softly up the stairs from the stereo in the living room.

 

The people inside the places are what makes them a home. And no matter where she goes, they’ll be with her. She never thought she’d have a family with so many members, but each of them are a gift she feels maybe she does deserve.

 

No, not maybe. Right now, there is no more doubt.

 

The knob turns, and then the door slowly opens.

**Author's Note:**

> from the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much. was not expecting this to take off like medicine did, but i’m so grateful and humbled by the love and support this story has also received. i really can’t believe it’s over but i hope you all are satisfied with janis’s journey and the ambiguity + hopefulness of this ending.
> 
> i started writing this almost a year ago and did not plan on it being anything special. but i know how much it’s come to mean to some of you, and to those who can relate to janis or regina in any way, i see you, and you are loved. you have a happy ending waiting for you, too. i hope the message of this story sticks with those who read it. you are enough, and family isn’t just the people you live with, but family can be with whoever.
> 
> thank you for loving and supporting my work, it really means the world! i keep writing and sharing because of my readers and i appreciate you guys so much. to those who left weekly comments every time, i truly looked forward to it. i love writing and i love sharing work that comforts and entertains people.
> 
> that being said, you can find all future works at [steviewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviewrites), but everything i have posted here will remain public! so, for the last time on this story and this account, thank you for reading, and kudos and comments are fetch. ♡
> 
> lots of love!!!  
> stevie


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